The Consequences of the Crash
by ecv
Summary: Booth and Brennan hunt for their crime scene, only to have disaster strike. Stranded, they are forced to to fight for their lives, and for a chance to be more than just partners.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: So apparently, I like to write stories that put the characters in dangerous situations, where they have to get out alive and figure out their relationship issues. This is set somewhere between Hannah leaving and B &B becoming a couple. I don't own Bones._

Temperance Brennan, renowned forensic anthropologist, turned toward her partner and friend, Agent Seeley Booth. He looked miserable, and she felt a twinge of sympathy for him.

"I think we should go up in a plane," Brennan suggested. It was early afternoon in Virginia and they'd spent the last several hours tromping through the forest. Some days, it seemed, hard work just didn't pay off.

Bodies were nothing new in Medico-Legal lab at the Jeffersonian Institute, but the newest one was proving perplexing. The body, discovered behind an abandoned mall, was covered in sticks and leaves. The lack of matching vegetation and blood, despite the gunshot wound to the head, made it a clear body dump. It was definitely a different kind of excitement than the skateboarders had been expecting.

Angela had managed to identify him using the serial number on a hip implant,. Robert Anderson, an accountant by day, but an avid hunter on his vacations. His hobby made Booth suspect his death might have been an accident, but several days later, the actual crime scene remained elusive. And without a crime scene, there was no way to prove Booth's hunch was correct.

Based on particulate evidence, Hodgins had narrowed down the possible crime scene to a specific part of the woods. He was sure the murder site was a cabin built of pine. Records checks hadn't found any land or cabin registered to their victim and the only clues they had to go on were those provided by Hodgins.

But despite searching and checking maps for the last several hours, the two partners had not been able to find any sign of that location.

So they were at an impasse. Give up and try again another day, or find another way to get what they were after.

Brennan wasn't one to give up easily.

Neither was Booth. But, he was dirty and sweaty from hiking around the forest all morning. None of the cabins they'd checked had been the right one. And he knew Bones wouldn't be satisfied until they managed to find it. And that was looking less and less likely with each passing minute.

At the moment, anything that could shorten this afternoon sounded like a good plan. Even if the plan involved something as crazy as a small plane.

"Where are we going to find a plane? And a pilot? Because unless you've suddenly taken up a hobby I'm not aware of, we are going to need one of those, too." His voice was harsh. But he couldn't seem to stop himself. He could blame his attitude on being tired and frustrated, but that wasn't totally true.

Things had been awkward between them at best lately. And a lot of the that, well most of it actually, was his fault. Every word that came out of his mouth was more abrupt than it needed to be.

That night in the SUV, Bones had admitted she wanted to take a chance with him and he'd shot her down. Offered to call someone to be with her, when that was usually his job.

If he had been less of a man, he would have left Hannah that moment for a chance to build a life with the woman currently watching him curiously. Unfortunately for both of them, he wasn't. Hannah wasn't a consolation prize he'd said instead, even though she clearly was.

Then, Hannah turned down his marriage proposal and left. Bones spent the night at the bar with him, listening to his words as he claimed he wanted nothing more from her than a work relationship. And at the time, that had been the truth.

But it wasn't true anymore. Hadn't been for a little while now. He thought, that maybe, they both finally might be in the same place at the same time. She was ready, and so was he, to take things to the next level.

Now, the difficulty was finding a way to broach that topic with her. She'd given no indication, since his declaration in the bar, that she might still be interested in pursuing a relationship with him.

He didn't know what to do.

And after that night at the Hoover more than a year ago, he was terrified the wrong words about his feelings would drive her away from him again.

So in a sick way, pretending he was mad at her seemed like the safer choice at the moment. Maybe she'd blame it on his recent emotional turmoil. It took away any chance that she would get a hint of his feelings and run for the hills.

Of course, if that happened again, he had no intention of letting her go. This time he'd follow her to the ends of the Earth and back if that's what it took.

A part of him hoped she would simply take the lead and give some sign that she was still interested. She'd done it once, there was a chance she'd do it again, right?

And maybe hell would freeze over this afternoon.

So, instead of telling her how beautiful she looked, despite the heat and the dirt that was smudged on her cheek, he waited, bent over, with his hands on his knees. He wanted nothing more for Bones to say that they were giving up. Then they would get in his SUV, turn the air conditioner on full blast, and stay there until winter.

He looked up at his partner and fought a sigh at the determined look on her face. Any hope of air conditioning drifted away.

"I saw an airfield on our way in. Maybe there's someone there who could help us." Brennan took a long drink from a bottle of water she was carrying. Her eyes were cool, hiding whatever she was thinking. "I think we might have a better chance of finding the area Hodgins suggested if we were above it, rather than stumbling around on the ground."

Remembering the tree branch he'd recently tripped over, Booth resisted the urge to rub at his sore shin. "We don't even know if there is anything to find. Why don't we just go back to Washington and try to narrow down the search area?" His voice had taken on a pleading quality but he didn't care. He just wanted out of there.

The bug boy was usually much better at this. But the information they'd been given was just too general. And who's to say the cabin they found would even be the right one. The last four hadn't been.

"We've come this far, Booth. Let's give it the afternoon. If we don't see anything, we can always head back in the morning." She gave him one of those looks that he always found hard to say no to. He spent a moment wondering if she was learning to do it on purpose to get what she wanted.

"An hour," he heard himself say. "If we can find a plane, I'll give it one hour. Otherwise we're going back to DC. Tonight." A night in a hotel with her was the last thing he wanted right now. There were too many pitfalls to be found in rooms filled with nothing but beds.

She narrowed her eyes at him, prepared to argue. But something in his face stopped her and Booth wondered what she saw there. She was usually so poor at that sort of thing. Maybe he wasn't the only one who'd changed a lot in the last year.

"Fine," she agreed, much too readily. "We'll drive back to DC tonight if that's what you want. Despite the fact that it would make much more sense to stay overnight and drive back in the morning."

"Tonight, Bones." He studied her face and noted the hurt there before she managed to hide it again. He made a conscious effort to try and soften his tone. "But we still have a few more hours. Let's go see if we can find a plane."


	2. Chapter 2

"This might not have been such a good idea," Booth said. It was the third time he'd said the phrase in the last ten minutes and Brennan was quickly coming to agree with him.

The airplane, if that's what you dared call it, did not seem air worthy once it was off the ground.

The take-off had been smooth and Brennan breathed a sigh of relief. Logically, the plane gave them a much better view of the forest they were attempting to search.

But everything had changed once they were in the air. A smooth ride had quickly turned rough. She and Booth sat behind the pilot and each bump of air knocked them into walls, or each other.

Booth had ridden on more planes than he cared to count during his time in the military. The ride had never been this rough, even when the plane was shot at.

To make things worse, Booth was pretty sure several key pieces had come loose, based on the noises he was hearing. He expected to fall from the sky any second.

The pilot turned back and smiled at his passenger's obvious distress. "Don't worry, folks," he said in an accent Booth was pretty sure was fake. "I've been flying this old girl for years. She might ride a little rough, but she's always got me back on the ground in one piece."

Apparently, one piece didn't count the several teeth the pilot was missing. Maybe he hadn't lost them in the plane, so they didn't count.

Another pocket of air jolted the plane and the pilot turned back toward the front. Brennan and Booth tried to look out the windows, but the constant turbulence was making it difficult to see what they needed to see.

"We'll go back to Washington," she said, finally giving up. "We won't come back until we have more information on a location."

Booth had been ready to exhale in relief, until Brennan's final word sounded loud and clear in his ears. In slow motion, he watched her eyes widen as she turned toward the pilot. "What's wrong?"

He was frantically twisting at levers and tapping dials. "Ummm, our engines appear to have died." His voice was no longer jovial. It was tight with concern and fear.

Booth noted he had been right about the accent; it had disappeared with the engine noise.

"Statistically," Brennan said, "the chances of being in a plane crash are very small." Which meant absolutely nothing at the moment, because no matter how small the chance, it appeared that the plane wouldn't be in the air much longer.

"Are we going to crash?" Booth asked, keying in on the one word in Brennan's statement that mattered.

His voice had taken on a calm quality Brennan didn't recognize and she turned toward him. She wasn't as ready to accept the plane was going to crash as he apparently was.

Booth's voice might have been calm, but there was nothing calm about him at the moment. His heart was racing and he heard Bones' voice in his head as she explained that it was because his body was flooding with adrenalin due to the threat on his life.

Quickly accepting the fact that the plane was going to crash, Booth looked out the windows and took in everything he could. Trees, water, and something that may have been a house miles distant. "How long can we stay in the air?"

The pilot didn't answer, but Booth could already feel a change in the altitude. His ears began to plug uncomfortably as the descent became more rapid.

"We could glide for a little while," the pilot said. He fiddled with something else and the nose of the plane came back up slightly. Booth watched him look out the windows. "But there's no safe place to put it down. We'll have to crash into the trees."

And despite the pilot's words, they weren't gliding at all. The plane was falling from the sky.

Booth reached for Brennan's hand. He'd spent months trying to find a way to tell her that he loved her, and he was about to lose his chance.

Giving her hand a squeeze, he looked out the window again. He knew life wasn't fair, but really, a plane crash? It had to be some sort of cosmic joke.

It was eerily silent in the plane, as it drifted ever faster toward the ground. Booth's grip on her hand became progressively tighter, to a point it must have been painful, but she never said a word.

He began to pray. That neither of them would die in the crash. He couldn't survive her death and he didn't want to die and leave her alone in the mountains.

He prayed for the chance to tell her he loved her. To hear the words from her. He prayed for everything and nothing at the same time, until the words became a blur in his brain.

At one point, as the trees grew closer, Booth turned to her. He refused to die without saying something. But when he opened his mouth, she shook her head. "I have no intention of dying today, Booth. So don't you dare try to say good-bye."

He nodded. What could he say in the next five minutes anyway that would encompass the depths of his feelings for her? That no matter what had happened between them over the years, it had always been her. She was the one he lived for, she was the one who kept him up at night.

Instead, he reached over with his free hand and tightened the belt a little more around her waist. "You make sure and stay alive," he ordered.

"I will," she promised.

Booth could tell that she was scared and he wished she didn't have to go through this. But it was too late for regrets now as he heard the belly of the plane brush the top of the first tree.

At the last second, their eyes met. "Don't die," she ordered with a little grin.

He opened his mouth to reply when the wing hit a tree.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: For those of you who hate cliff hangers as much as I do...this should tide you over for a little while._

The banging, tumbling and crashing finally quit, allowing silence to blanket them. Filtered sunlight came in through the windows, between the trees surrounding the plane. Booth wasn't sure how he was even still breathing, say nothing about conscious.

For a time, he hadn't been sure which way was up. It felt as if they'd tumbled for seconds, or hours. He hadn't blacked out, but what exactly happened after the wing clipped the first tree wasn't totally clear.

He'd had a thousand things he wanted to say to her, but no time to do it. He'd tried to hold her hand, but the ride, that felt like what he imagined being in a washing machine felt like, had ripped it from his.

Desperate to make sure she was alive, he turned toward her. Brennan sat in her seat, looking around with a bemused expression on her face. Blinking hard, she turned in Booth's direction. "What happened?" she asked.

Booth clawed at his seatbelt, which refused to come loose. Forcing himself to slow down and take a deep breath, he finally heard the click of the release. Throwing the separate pieces to the side, he reached out to the woman next to him.

Even for someone who believed in miracles, having both of them survive the actual crash seemed like more than any man deserved.

Shaking fingers brushed back her hair, looking for a wound he couldn't find. "The plane crashed," he explained simply.

Looking around, he considered the crumpled metal around them. "We're in the mountains somewhere. Virginia or North Carolina maybe." He wished he had a better answer for their location.

She crinkled her forehead at him. Following his eyes, she took in the branches and debris. Reaching up, she brushed her fingers across her head, wincing when she touched a sore spot. "What happened?" she asked again.

Booth squinted his eyes in concern. "I just told you. We were in a place crash. Don't you remember?"

It was possible she had a head injury. Several things had crashed into him as the plane tumbled.

There was no way he'd leave her behind if she couldn't continue. She simply had to be okay.

He looked over her again, trying to find something he'd missed the first time. His hands roamed, poking at this and that, trying to find an injury, any injury that would explain her repeated question. He could feel the panic starting to take over, but there was nothing he could do to stop it.

She had to be okay. There were no other options.

Brennan recognized what was happening and grabbed both hands in hers. "Look at me, Booth."

His brown eyes met hers and she squeezed his hands harder. "I remember, Booth. I don't have a head injury. I'm okay. We're okay."

She kept repeating the words, over and over again, until she saw the panic begin to recede from his eyes. "I meant what happened to the plane?"

The breath he took was shaky, but he no longer felt like his heart was going to explode from his chest. He needed to focus. There were a lot of questions he didn't have the answers for.

The offered hands were cool in his, and they trembled slightly, but the firmness of her grip and the confidence in her voice relieved more of his worry. "I don't know why the engines died."

He turned grimly toward the front of the plane where the pilot sat. Pulling his hands from hers, he reached forward to feel for a pulse.

His silence, when he turned back toward her, answered any questions about the fate of the pilot. "You're sure you're not hurt?"

She nodded her head. "We're very lucky. The force of the impact was thankfully not enough to cause us catastrophic brain damage. And neither of us appear to have any injuries that will cause us to die quickly."

Booth snorted. With two statements, she'd managed to sum up every worry he'd had since she'd asked the same question twice. "Thank goodness for that."

Her science gave her a place to hide when her emotions were in turmoil. It seemed as safe a place as any right now.

"So what are the chances of two people surviving a plane crash with no injuries?" he asked.

Brennan reached for the seatbelt. "I have no idea, but I'm sure I can find out when I get back to the lab."

"Let me," Booth commanded, reaching for her fingers. Knowing he was being the alpha-male Bones always accused him of being, he was surprised when she didn't argue.

But he shouldn't have been. She had always tried to do what was best for him, and right at that moment, being in control was what he needed.

His hands were still shaking, but he managed to unhook the belt from around her waist. When her seat belt came off, she leaned toward him and rested against his shoulder.

"We're okay, Bones," he reassured her, surprised that their roles had suddenly reversed. "We've made it through the worst. We'll be okay now."

She leaned back to see his face. It was clear she didn't believe him. "We're in trouble, aren't we?" she asked.

Booth wanted to kiss her. Her face was so close. All he had to do was lean forward and complete the connection.

Then he'd lean back and tell her that everything would be fine. That help was definitely on the way.

But he couldn't force himself to move toward her. And he couldn't force the lie past his lips.

He looked away from her, through the window behind her. "No one knows where we are, Bones. This was something we decided to do to try and get a better look. I'm sure there wasn't a flight plan filed and this plane doesn't look like something that would have an emergency beacon."

He rubbed a hand across his face. "We aren't due back in Washington until tomorrow at the earliest. The most we can hope for is that someone misses the pilot."

Turning back, he met her eyes. "We're on our own."


	4. Chapter 4

It was harder than Booth figured it would be to even get out of the plane. He hoped it wasn't an indication on how the rest of this little adventure was going to go.

It took several attempts to get the door of the plane open, so the two of them could crawl and wiggle their way out of the mangled wreckage.

The plane had come to rest on the ground, wedged between several trees. Booth looked up at the sky, noting the solid canopy above them. Even if someone was aware they needed help, it would be almost impossible to see the wreckage from the air.

No matter which way he looked, that was all he could see. Trees and more trees.

He'd never hated nature so much in his entire life.

With the two of them standing out in the open air, Booth began to assess just how dire their situation was. He contemplated how much to hide from his partner, and how angry she would be when he did so.

But he should have known not to bother. She was just as smart as he was, smarter in fact, as far as he was concerned, and she would come to the same conclusions he did.

"We aren't dressed for one night in the woods. One of our biggest risks tonight is hypothermia." Brennan was standing next to him, just as rapidly assessing what they would need to survive.

Booth looked down at his jeans and t-shirt and over to his partner, who was dressed very similarly. Neither of them wore a jacket, but both at least had hiking shoes on their feet.

"We need to find something to start a fire." He met her blue eyes. "You didn't happen to learn how to start a fire with sticks on all of those crazy digs you went on?"

He was trying to lighten the mood, but she didn't see it that way.

Bones narrowed her eyes at him. "I would have thought that was something you learned in military."

"Trust me, Bones, there weren't any sticks in Afghanistan. Just a lot of sand," he said. His voice lost any humor it had, taking on the same harsh tone he'd been using to speak to her for weeks.

And Afghanistan? Why would he bring that up? Any mention of that place automatically brought to mind the person who'd followed him home.

She nodded and pressed her lips together. "Maybe there's something we can use in the plane," she mumbled, walking away from him.

Booth kicked at the ground. "Shit. Bones, wait," he called after her.

She stopped, but didn't turn.

He grabbed her arm. "That's not what I meant. I didn't mean-" he stumbled over the explanation, not sure how to apologize for something he'd been doing for weeks. I'm sorry I'm an idiot just didn't seem like enough.

She'd tried to ignore it at first, the way he spoke to her like he'd rather be talking to anyone else, chalking it up to Hannah leaving. But she was tired of it. Unfortunately, now didn't seem like the appropriate time to call him on it.

She'd gone to Angela about it. When his words made her want to slam a door in his face instead of leaving to go to a crime scene with him.

 _"_ _He's angry," Angela explained._

 _"_ _Why?" Brennan asked. "I didn't turn down his proposal."_

 _"_ _But you did turn him down, Sweetie. And even though you told him you made a mistake, right now he's too angry at women in general to remember that."_

 _"_ _But that doesn't explain why he keep talking to me the way he does."_

 _Angela sighed, wondering how to explain it so Brennan would understand. "Because he feels safe with you. He's working through his anger and he knows that you will still be waiting for him on the other side, no matter what he says to you or how he says it in the meantime."_

"It's okay, Booth," excusing his behavior just as she had the last several months. "We're both under a lot of stress right now." Her voice was calm. She refused to look up and meet his eyes. Instead, they remained focused on the hand circling her arm.

If she looked up, he'd easily read the lie there. It wasn't okay with her. Hadn't been since the beginning. She was just trying to be patient like Angela had suggested.

"Bones, look at me."

He felt her sigh, but after a moment, she did as he ordered. When her blue eyes finally met his, they were empty of emotion. She was hiding behind the mask.

"I didn't mean for it to come out that way. I didn't mean to bring up Afghanistan."

Damn. That wasn't what he meant to say. Why couldn't he just be honest with her?

She looked at him, clearly confused. That's why he thought she was mad? Maybe she wasn't the only one who was inept with emotions.

"Why not? Afghanistan was part of your military experience and it happened quite recently. It is only natural that you would refer to it."

It was his turn to sigh. "You're right, Bones. I shouldn't be so sensitive about it."

"No," she agreed. "You shouldn't be."

She pulled away from his grip and headed toward the plane. "I think we need to talk, Booth. But right now, I want to come up with a plan to help us survive."

Booth watched her walk away, her steps steady. He rubbed his hand over his face, angry at himself. It was time to stop making excuses for what he was doing. And why would she ever give any indication that she was still interested in him when he acted like he was mad at her all the time?

Digging around in a plane with a dead body would have made him cringe. She didn't hesitate as she climbed back in to look for supplies. Compartmentalizing had always been one of her strengths.

He couldn't help but notice the view as she climbed back into the wreckage and he mentally gave himself a kick. First he snapped at her, then he stared at her. God, could he get any more screwed up?

Now was not the time to have wild fantasies. This was not a campout in the woods, where civilization was in easy reach. One or both of them could easily die in this forest, their bodies eventually being found by hunters.

If they were lucky.

Booth walked away to grab dry sticks. She was right when she said hypothermia was a big worry for them. If she didn't find anything handy in the plane, like matches, the two of them would find another way to start a fire.

There were several dead trees in the area, and the branches at the bottom were drier than those on the ground. Quickly, he broke off several to carry back to the plane, careful to make sure one didn't fall out of the tree and land on his head.

He'd managed to survive a plane crash. He didn't want to be killed by a tree branch instead.

Food, water, shelter were the big three when it came to survival. That was what he needed to worry about right now. Not whether or not Bones was going to slap him the next time he opened his mouth to speak to her. It wouldn't be the first, or even the second time she'd done it. And she had a mean swing when she was angry.

Snapping off one last branch, he turned to head back. It seemed they would have lots of time to sort all of this out. And he better figure out what he wanted to say to her, or he was going to screw this up.

Again.


	5. Chapter 5

He arrived back at the wreckage twenty minutes later to find her sitting in the middle of a pile of various items she'd managed to scavenge from the plane. There were tears in her eyes.

The sight was like a sucker punch to the gut. He dropped the branches and approached her slowly. "Is everything okay, Bones?"

Brennan's head snapped up, surprised to see him standing there. "I'm fine, Booth." She wiped quickly at her eyes. "Just mad."

He came forward and knelt in front of her. "Look, Bones, I'm sorry about the way-"

"You should be sorry about the way you've been speaking to me," she interrupted. "But I am not shedding tears over that. And despite the harshness of your words at times, I know your intent wasn't to hurt me. You'd never hurt me on purpose, Booth."

Wow. Now he really felt like a jerk. "Then why the tears?" He reached forward to brush another one from her cheek.

"I'm angry because all of this is my fault. If I hadn't insisted we find the cabin, we wouldn't have gone up in that plane. We wouldn't be trapped on some stupid mountain with no food or water."

"It's not your fault," he said, knowing the words wouldn't be enough to convince her. She relied on evidence and in her mind, there was more than enough to come to the conclusion that this whole thing was her fault.

"It's the plane's or the pilot's, but not yours. I could have said no."

Brennan nodded, clearly unconvinced. She sniffed and looked at him. "It doesn't matter now. We have bigger problems."

Booth sat across from her, feeling weary all the way to his bones, and knowing that there was no hope of getting much rest in the next several days. "What did you find?"

"Not much," she admitted. "I found my pack. It had a couple of bottles of water, some granola bars, and my latest book." Her laugh was weak, but she still managed one as she picked it up. "I'm not sure what it is about me being in trouble and always having my latest novel with me."

Booth took it from her hand. "I stuck it in there this morning. I liked it. I wanted to read it again." The way she wrote about Agent Andy and Kathy always gave him hope for the two of them.

"You'll have to buy a new copy," Brennan said. She took it back from him. "I figure the paper is a good fire starter."

She got to her feet and walked in a circle around the supplies. "There was a knife in my pack. I thought we could cut the covers off the seats to use for blankets or ground cover tonight. There's the various wires and metal debris from the plane. And this," she reached down to pick up a small ax. "I'm sure it's dull but it might come in handy."

"I was hoping for matches or a lighter," Booth said. "We need to stay warm. And if we had fire, we could take some of this metal with us and boil water."

"Neither of those, but I did find these." Going back to the plane, she reached in to grab several long sticks. Booth recognized them immediately.

"Flares," he said. "How many?"

"Five," she answered without hesitation. Not only had she found supplies, but she'd carefully counted and categorized each in her head as she'd done so. Brennan knew the flares were more important than the rest.

"We also have your gun," Brennan pointed out. "Not that it will do us much good in the forest, but we have it."

He could think of one thing it would be good for. "You don't eat meat, Bones."

The corners of her mouth turned down in distaste. "I may be forced to reevaluate my opinion if there is nothing else to eat."

Opening his mouth to say something else , he changed his mind and closed it again.

Brennan saw and came forward to sit at his feet, facing him. "You can't do that, Booth. Not now."

"Do what?"

"Consider something, or think of an idea and not share it with me." She paused and bit her lip. "I know that sometimes I can be difficult to work with, or share ideas with, but we have to put that aside for the moment. The only way we are getting out of here is to work together."

He reached forward to pull her to him. Despite the situation, he took the time to settle her between his knees, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

He had no right to touch her. No right to hold her tightly against him, but he didn't care. For the moment, the gentleness of his touch was the only apology he knew how to offer.

"We have to decide which way to go," he said. The warmth of her body felt good against his skin. The air was cooling quickly and he wore only the thin T-shirt. She must have felt the same way because instead of fighting the move, she leaned into him.

"For tonight, we need a fire. We only have five flares, which means we need to be out of the mountains by then."

Brennan turned enough to see his face. "So for the moment, we need a fire."

He nodded. "For the moment."


	6. Chapter 6

An hour later, they leaned back against the wreckage of the plane, the fire burning at their feet. They sat as close to each other as possible to share body heat.

Booth wanted to sleep away from the plane, but Brennan had refused. Despite what was still inside, the plane would help keep them warm.

Brennan had cut the seat covers off, and they were each sitting on one to protect them from the damp ground. They had no blankets or coats. The fire would help fight off hypothermia, but they would still be chilled.

They were hungry, but not uncomfortably so. That would come later, if they didn't find their way out of this wilderness. Brennan's granola bars would not last long.

His survival training would come in handy, and knowing Bones, she would probably enjoy half the things they would be forced to eat. He just hoped they were out of there before they were reduced to eating bugs.

Hodgins would never let him live it down.

Despite his exhaustion, Booth didn't want to close his eyes. It was important the fire stay going all night, and he was worried about Bones. She hadn't shown any lingering affects from the plane crash, but who knew what could happen?

He gave little time for thoughts of himself. He'd always been a leader, protecting his brother as a child, his men in the military, and of course Bones. His primary mission the next several days would be to get her out of the woods in one piece.

The fire provided very little light, and the darkness was impenetrable outside that circle. Booth had been many places over the years, some of them as isolated as this one.

But help had never seemed so far away.

Brennan straightened one of her bare arms out and examined a bruise developing there. She figured there were more to be found beneath her clothes.

Despite the ugliness, Brennan knew was coming, she was glad she had nothing more than bruises to indicate she'd survived a plane crash.

Looking at Booth, she noticed he had more of the same on his arms. Some of them worse than hers.

He looked down at what caught her attention. Not wanting her to worry about him, he covered the worst with his hand.

She lifted his hand and poked at the bruise with her fingers. He winced, but didn't stop her.

"Nothing broken," she said after a moment. "But that bruise is going to get a lot bigger before it disappears."

"Did you put that in English for me?" he asked. He was always yelling at the squints to use words he understood.

"Did you want it in Spanish?"

He rolled his eyes. Literal Bones.

"We'll make it," he said to her. He felt the need to reassure her, and himself at the same time. "You're brilliant. Between the two of us, we can make it."

"You're brilliant as well, Booth. And I'm sure your military training will help us."

Her voice sounded tired, he noted. "We'll try and find water. Then we can follow it towards civilization."

"Water would be good," she agreed. "Rivers tend to lead to people." She sat with her eyes closed, too tired for words. Yet, sleep seemed so far away.

She forced them open and turned toward him. "I'd forgotten how dark it was outside of the city. I wish we could see the stars. My dad taught me some of the constellations when I was a child. I could have taught them to you."

He didn't deserve her simple kindness and he knew it. Why was he the only one she ever showed her heart to?

He was sure that there were sides of her that no one besides him had ever seen. He missed the days when she trusted him without thought.

It was the way he had always trusted her. He still did.

"I did a lot of praying in that second for us to survive." He didn't remember half of the things he'd prayed for. To see Parker again. To love Bones. Everything else had kind of faded into the background.

He knew Brennan would find a scientific reason for their survival and he wasn't disappointed.

"God had nothing to do with our survival. It was purely a matter of physics. If we had landed with more force or at a different angle, the physics would have changed the outcome."

"Does your science explain everything?" he asked, but not meanly.

She considered the depth of her feelings for him. "Not really," she said. "But does your God explain everything for you?"

Instead of waiting for an answer, she reached up and brushed at his hair. The gesture was out of character for her, but Angela had once explained that a simple touch was sometimes the best that could be offered. "Try not to worry so much, Booth."

Easy for her to say. He'd done nothing but worry for months.

"I'll try," he lied.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Thanks for all the great reviews. This chapter's been driving me nuts, -write, write, rewrite - you get the idea. I've decided to post it and just move on. For those of you now concerned that there aren't more chapters ready, I'm well past this point...I just need to get rid of this one so I quit going back to it._

Brennan woke with a start. Booth felt the sudden movement and put his hand on her shoulder.

"I'm here."

At some point during the night, Brennan had stretched out on the ground so her head was pillowed on Booth's thigh. With his hand resting on her shoulder, she made no effort to sit up right away.

Booth sat in almost the same position as he had when the evening began. As long as she was asleep, he would stay awake to make sure nothing came for them. The time provided him the chance to think about everything that had happened in the past year.

His confession of love to Bones.

An escape, by both of them, to find whatever it was they needed to find.

A proposal, to Hannah, that ended in disaster.

A demand that he and Bones be partners and nothing more.

He'd done a lot of things wrong in the last year. He felt that she deserved, at the very least, an apology for some of it.

He didn't know if this was the right time to apologize to her. But if not now, then when?

Of course, these kinds of conversations usually went better when you weren't trying to survive after a plane crash, but when had anything ever been easy for the two of them?

"I used to sit by myself in Afghanistan," he began quietly, sensing instinctively that she hadn't gone back to sleep. "I would sit by myself and imagine all the things I should have said to you that night outside the Hoover."

"Booth," she tried to interrupt.

"Bones, I need to say this," he said. "Please, just let me do this."

She pushed his hand off her shoulder and sat up. She looked at his face, trying to read whatever emotions she could find. None of them were clear to her and as usual, she wished she were better at that sort of thing.

But she'd been waiting for Booth to circle back to her. Angela had counseled patience after Hannah had left. Maybe, just maybe, this was the first step in that circle.

He watched her face, never looking away. After a moment, Brennan, apparently satisfied with what she'd determined, nodded. "As long as you know it's not necessary."

He reached forward to take one of her hands in his. Flipping it over so her palm was up, he traced circles in the center with his fingertip.

"And in every scenario, I always said the right thing. I always had the right words to make you take a chance on us," he continued.

His tone, and his words, had the feeling of confession to them. But whether it was a confession to her, or to himself, neither of them was quite sure.

She shook her head in denial, but chose not to speak. She hadn't turned him down because she hadn't wanted him. She'd wanted him so much it scared her. Still did.

The gamble had been too much. It seemed like a better and more logical choice to lose out on dating him rather than lose him forever when he saw her for what she really was.

Then he would leave her, like everyone else in her life had.

"I know you went to Maluku to get away from me. And if I'd taken enough time to think about it, I would have realized you needed some time to think about us in that way. That you never did anything quickly. But I couldn't see past my own pain to see what you were struggling with."

Booth knew that she would be amused that he'd pronounced the name of the isolated place correctly. Half the time, he did things incorrectly just to force her to correct him.

Maybe someday he'd tell her about the map he'd carried with him. The one that marked where he was in relation to her. The one with the calculations on the back so he'd alway know how far apart they were.

He should have taken it as a sign that instead of throwing it away when Hannah had moved in, he'd hidden it someplace where she couldn't find it.

Sweets would have a field day if he ever found that that one out.

"And then I met -" he paused and swallowed, unable to say the name out loud. "Well," he said with a soft chuckle, "you know who I met."

Finally giving in the urge to move, Brennan grabbed the hand that was making the shapes in her palm. She squeezed gently to provide whatever reassurance he needed.

"And for a time," he continued, "I could pretend my life was my own again. That the broken heart that I carried around in my chest could still beat."

Brennan had once told him that hearts couldn't be broken. The heart was a muscle and muscles couldn't break. He wondered if she still believed that after her confession that night in the rain. When Booth had told her he was in love with another woman and that she had missed her chance.

Even if Bones would always be the one he loved the most.

"I'm sorry for that, Bones. I didn't mean to hurt you. Even if you aren't my lover, you are my friend, and you deserve better than that."

"Booth, stop," she finally ordered. "Just stop."

He blinked and looked at her. Had he screwed it up again?

"I won't sit here and let you take all the blame for what's happened between us. It's ridiculous and selfish." Her voice had risen with each word, until Booth was sure if help was coming, they could locate them by her voice alone.

"Wait, what? Selfish?" he echoed.

"Yes, selfish. You don't get to say everything is your fault."

She moved away from him to throw more wood on the fire. "I went to Maluku. It was my choice, you didn't force me to go. Instead of waiting for you to leave me, I left first."

She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, but not from the cold. It was nerves giving her chills now.

"I said no at the Hoover that night, for reasons I thought were logical at the time. I didn't know how to sustain a relationship and I still don't."

"As for Hannah, you told me you were going to move on. Why would I expect you to do anything less? Even if it crushed my heart when you did it."

She moved nervously around the fire, knowing this conversation would decide their future. "As for what you said after Hannah left-"

"I was wrong the night Hannah left, too," he interrupted.

"So you weren't angry at the world?" she asked, her head tilted to the side, watching him. "Because you had every right to be."

"No, yes, I don't know, Bones." This conversation had taken a turn he hadn't expected.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "You need to know."

He rubbed both hands across his face. "I told you I didn't want to be anything more than partners," his voice was frustrated, but not with her, with himself.

"I remember that part."

He looked at her, with her arms crossed across her chest, fire in her eyes. "Fine. You don't want my apologies. I'll just give you the truth. I'm still in love with you, Bones," he said. "I've never stopped being in love with you."

Brennan took a deep breath. Firelight reflected off the tears that suddenly appeared in her eyes. It was what she'd been waiting to hear since Hannah left. The indication that she hadn't missed her chance, just delayed it for a little while.

Brennan came toward him and knelt at his side. Reaching up, she placed her palm against his cheek. Wordlessly, she leaned forward and kissed him gently on the lips.

It wasn't a kiss between lovers. But neither was it a kiss between friends. It was a kiss of comfort and promises.

She pulled back and smiled at him. "All I've ever wanted from you is the truth. I think we both could have done things differently. But the past, well I could go into explanations on what physicists think about the past, but I don't think that's what you want to hear right now."

"I'm pretty sure I'm in love with you, too. It doesn't happen very often, but I've been waiting for you to catch up to me for a change."

She sat next to him and pulled his head down until it rested on her thigh. "Now it's your turn to sleep. I told you earlier to quit worrying so much and I meant it."


	8. Chapter 8

Booth woke when the sun was just rising over the trees. He reached for Brennan, only to discover she was no longer there. His heart kicked into overdrive and he jumped to his feet.

Only to sit back down again when spots danced in front of his eyes.

"You shouldn't get up so fast," Bones admonished him. "It makes your blood pressure drop."

"Thanks," he muttered, blinking hard. When his eyes finally cleared, he stood again, this time a bit more slowly. "Where were you? And why didn't you wake me? "

She handed him a granola bar, their hands brushing as she did so. She smiled at him shyly before explaining. "I determined what we were taking and what we are leaving behind. I packed my bag."

"As for not waking you, you need sleep just like I do. You can't stay awake forever, Booth."

Booth walked toward the remaining pile, quickly realizing she had selected exactly what he would have suggested. She had the ax and her knife, the flares and the book. A metal tin to boil water. Some random wiring she'd cut from the engine.

Most of what was left was too big to carry anyway. They would move faster and use less energy if they only took exactly what they needed.

Greedily, he opened the bar she'd given him. He was hungry. He planned to try and enjoy the meager breakfast until he took the first bite.

It took all his willpower not to spit it out on the ground. "This isn't a granola bar. It's one of those protein bars," he cried in shock.

He should have known Bones wouldn't be carrying plain old granola bars. No, it had to be the disgusting ones with protein and nuts and good things.

She took another bite of hers, clearly enjoying his disgust. "Protein is important for energy."

He glared at her, but took another bite. Food would be in short supply the next couple of days. He couldn't afford not to eat it, no matter how disgusting it was.

The day had dawned crisp and clear. Booth shivered slightly in his thin T-shirt and was grateful to see Bones had put a few more pieces of wood on the fire before he'd risen. Staring at the flames, he contemplated the day.

"I think," he said between bites, "we should probably head to the south. See how that goes for us."

He motioned with his free hand in that direction. "I think I saw some sort of structure as we were coming down. I'm pretty sure it was in that direction."

"You saw more than I did," she said. "All I saw were trees." She shook her head to chase away the memory.

"I didn't see much more than that," he said. "And I don't even know if south is the right direction."

"Booth, we don't have any other options. If you think south is the correct way to go, then that's the way we are going."

Brennan began to kick dirt over the fire, making sure it was completely out. The last thing they needed was a forest fire chasing them down the hill.

Booth watched her pause and look around them. She looked unsure suddenly, something that didn't occur very often. He wondered what she was thinking. When she didn't speak, he realized he was going to have to ask her if he really wanted to know.

"I'm wondering if we should stay with the plane," she replied to the question. "Conventional wisdom says to stay in one place if you are lost in the woods."

"Conventional wisdom only applies if someone knows you are missing. And if there is a clear search area. The chances of anyone seeing what is left of the plane from the air would be a miracle."

She raised her eyebrows at the word.

"And while I usually believe in miracles, I think we might have used ours up yesterday."

He crumpled the wrapper in his hand and shoved it in the pocket of his jeans. Bones wouldn't condone littering, no matter what the situation.

Booth turned and took one last look at the wreckage behind them. "Did you grab something to boil water with?"

He'd seen it in her bag already, but he needed to be sure.

"And the flares? Did you get the flares?"

Brennan slung the bag over her shoulder and walked forward to stand next to him. She put one hand on his arm and looked at him confidently.

"I have everything we need, Booth."

He nodded. He would have offered to carry it, but it was probably better they take turns.

"We better get started," she said.

Booth looked at her for a moment, before nodding in agreement. The tension between them was gone this morning. It felt better than it had for a long time.

She tilted her head at him. "Are you not ready to go now? Is there something else we need to do?"

"I"m ready," he said. He wondered if she knew it wasn't only the hike that he referred to.


	9. Chapter 9

"Tell me a story," Booth said after they'd hiked in silence for an hour. The trees were far enough apart that walking wasn't difficult, but the constant ascending and descending had made conversation difficult. The ground had leveled out for a moment and Booth was able to breath normally again.

She was so stunned by the request she stopped in her tracks to look at him. "A story?" she repeated, clearly confused.

"Yeah, Bones, a story. You know, something to pass the time."

"I could tell you about the plot for the next book I'm going to write," she offered. She'd been thinking about it in her head while they walked.

He laughed, clearly tempted. He loved her books, but it wasn't what he was looking for. "A good offer, but I want one about you."

She started walking again, a bit slower than before and considered what he might want to hear. "There was the time I got lost in Maluku. But you should already know about that. I could tell you about the time I spent in South America," she continued talking more to herself than him, not noticing he'd come to a stop.

When she finally turned to look for him, he was several feet behind her. "Are you okay?" she asked. "Why did you stop?"

He was replaying her little speech in his head. "How would I know about your time in Maluku?"

She motioned with her hand for him to catch up. "Come on, Booth. We have to keep walking while we talk. We only have limited supplies and we can't be stopping every ten seconds. Statistically, our chances of surviving are best if we find help within the next couple of days."

He jogged back to her. "How would I know about Maluku?" he asked her again. He knew very little about the time they'd spent apart. She knew more about his time in Afghanistan because of who had followed him home.

"From the letter I sent you," she said. "I always wondered why you didn't write back. I figured that I had misunderstood the social conventions of letter writing.'

"Whoa, wait a minute, Bones." He stopped again, despite her command that they had to keep moving. "You never sent me a letter."

She refused to stop, climbing over a tree that was currently in her way. "If you keep stopping, you're going to get left behind. And I'm not waiting for you."

Forced to jog again, he climbed over the same tree and grabbed her arm. This time she had no choice but to stop with him. "I didn't get a letter from you, Bones."

That was something that he wouldn't have forgotten. He'd waited weeks to hear something, anything from her. Part of the reason he'd tried to move on was because she cut off all contact with him. He took it as a clear sign that she definitely was not interested in anything more than friendship.

He'd only felt a little better when he'd heard she hadn't contacted anyone during that time. Still, the thought that she could forget him so easily hurt. And with her on a deserted island, there had been no way for Booth to contact her.

"Oh." She pulled out of his grasp and started walking again. "Well, I could tell you what was in it. If you want to hear it, that is," she finished shyly, suddenly unsure.

They were starting to head down hill again; the ground was sloping more steeply. Brennan was forced to place her feet carefully to keep from slipping on the damp leaves.

"Maybe later," Booth said, bringing his attention back to what was in front of him. "Use the trees to help you down. It gets better again up ahead."

"I can see that," she said, working her way from tree to tree. "I just don't want to start going the wrong way."

A laugh escaped his lips. "How would we know we were going in the right way?"

Using a tree for support, she turned back toward him. "We need to keep going south. By using the position of the sun, we should be able to…" she trailed off at the amused look on his face.

Clearly, she'd misunderstood, but she attempted to regroup. "You mean how could we tell the right way, because we don't know what way that is to begin with?"

"Hey, you got that one." He moved carefully to a tree below her. "Come on," he said. "I'd like to try and get over the next ridge before afternoon comes."

"Maybe your structure will be on the other side of the ridge."

He looked at her doubtfully. "Maybe."


	10. Chapter 10

There was nothing on the other side of that ridge, or the next one either. They were forced to accept that they would spend a second night in the woods.

During the late afternoon, they'd stumbled across a small stream, and were following the winding trail it made down the mountain.

At some point, Brennan had found a patch of vine. He hadn't understood her excitement, until she explained that most of the plant was edible. He groaned, but hunger was stronger than his reticence and he helped her gather as much of the plant as they could carry.

It appeared, that with the water and the rabbit food, they would be uncomfortable, but not painfully so. It renewed his hope that they might actually make it back to people in one piece.

"Here," he said, pointing to a flat area above the water. The sun was rapidly setting and he could feel the difference in the air. He was never going anywhere without a coat again.

She nodded, gratefully setting the bag on the ground. She put her hands on her hips and arched her back, trying to stretch out aching muscles.

"I haven't hiked this much in a long time," she admitted. Bending over, she retrieved a flare and a large, round piece of metal from the bag. "Do you want fire or water duty?"

"I'll go get some dry wood, if you'll make a pit for the fire," Booth offered. He'd give her the job that gave her more of a chance to rest while he took the more physical labor.

Choosing a spot, she started throwing sticks and rocks out of her way. Since she had a good start, Booth walked a short distance away to grab the needed wood.

It would be colder that night without the plane at their backs. In addition, there was a greater chance of animals, some of them large, the farther they moved down the mountain. A good fire would be important not only for warmth, but for protection from things that walked on more than two legs.

"I feel like I'm stuck in that movie where the guy relives the same day over and over again," Booth said when he got back.

Brennan looked up from where she was ripping out pages of her book to use as kindling. "I don't understand."

"There's this movie, _Groundhog Day_ , where the actor relives the same day over and over again. That's what this feels like." He watched her for a moment. "You really need to get a television, Bones."

"I got one," she said, lighting the flare. The paper lit and burned brightly, igniting the small pieces of wood she'd stacked above it. She considered the flare for a second, shoving the burning end into the ground to put it out.

"Maybe we can relight it later if we need to," she explained. She held out her hand toward Booth.

He picked up a larger piece of wood and handed it to her. "When did you get a television?"

"After Hannah left." She bit her lip, watching the fire carefully to make sure it didn't go out. "I thought, that with her gone, you might start coming to my apartment again after cases."

He hadn't come because he wasn't sure he was welcome. And he'd been so angry at first. In those first days, he thought he might be angry forever. It had taken a long time for that feeling to go away.

And when the anger had faded, he hadn't been sure how to find his way back to the way it had been before. If that was where he wanted to end up. Since he wanted to be sure before he made a move, he'd avoided spending a lot of time alone with her.

All of which seemed like really ridiculous reasons now. She'd always accepted who he was, even when he wasn't sure himself.

"It's not your fault I didn't come, Bones. That was my decision."

She shrugged and Booth wondered if that meant it didn't matter, or it mattered a lot and she didn't want to talk about it.

"I've been watching some shows on it recently," she admitted.

Booth's curiosity was raised. What kind of shows would Bones like to watch? "Anything in particular?"

Her look turned embarrassed. "I'm not sure I want to say."

Now he was really intrigued. His mind whirled with all the interesting possibilities. "Come on, Bones. You can't bring it up and then not share. That goes against all social conventions between friends."

She looked at him carefully, trying to decide whether he was teasing her or not. He fought to keep his face neutral, giving nothing away.

Finally, she mumbled something that he thought he couldn't have heard correctly. "Did you just say _Survivor_?" he asked with a laugh.

"Yes," she snapped. She grabbed the metal bowl from its resting place on the ground. "The fire has the ingredients it requires for the moment. I'm going to get some water."

He watched her walk away, trusting that she wasn't really mad, just embarrassed.

"We'll probably have to spend half the night boiling enough water to refill the water bottles," she said as she returned.

"Oh, no," he said, taking the water from her to set on the fire. "You aren't getting out of it that easily. Why _Survivor_?"

She crossed her arms and gave him a look that dared him to tease her. "It's fascinating anthropologically, watching various people from different backgrounds try to create a functional community."

Booth grinned at her. "How long did you practice that answer, just in case someone asked you about it?"

"It's the truth," she argued, throwing a stick at him.

He dodged it easily. "Let's get some of that green stuff out and then get ready to sleep. Tomorrow will be another long day."


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: You didn't think it would be that easy...did you?_

That night, when Booth snapped awake, instinct had him reaching for his gun.

Bones lay close to him, still asleep. He moved slowly, careful not to wake her as he got to his feet.

The air was cold, and goosebumps appeared on his bare arms. He noticed, but gave the chill little attention. Suddenly, it seemed they had another obstacle to getting out of there alive.

The circle of warmth around the fire faded quickly as he moved toward the perimeter of their little camp. He wondered if he was making himself as easy target.

He'd often woken like this in Afghanistan, right before the enemy fired on the camp. It was as if he could sense, even in sleep, when someone was there that shouldn't be. The guys used to tease him about his psychic abilities, but when he told them something was going to happen, they never questioned it. Several of them owed him their lives because of it.

Senses alert, he walked slowly, looking for anything out of place. There shouldn't have been anything human there except for the two of them, but every cell of his body was screaming.

Nothing moved. The wind didn't rustle the leaves. The animals, who should have been filling the night with their noise, made no sound. Another tally in the column that indicated something was off.

A flashlight would have been nice. Something to shine into the trees to see what looked back at him. To his left, a stick snapped, and he turned toward the sound, using a tree next to him for cover.

His ears strained to hear another noise, but there was nothing. However, Booth was convinced there was something out there and if he still gambled, he'd bet money on it being human.

He heard Bones move behind him and gradually made his way back to her side. She took in his gun and the look in his eyes and tilted her head in a silent question.

He shook his head. "I'm not sure," he whispered. Rather than holster his gun, he set it on the ground within easy reach.

"Is your gut talking to you?" she asked. He couldn't tell read her whispering tone to tell whether or not she was joking.

"There's something out there."

"Animal?"

He shook his head. "I don't think so. I think we might be a close to something. Maybe it was a cabin I saw as we were crashing. I don't know what else it could be. I'm pretty sure there is a person out in those trees."

His eyes never left the darkness around them. There was something or someone out there, he was sure of it.

And instinct told him they were an enemy. Anyone friendly wouldn't leave two people to fend for themselves in the woods.

"Go back to sleep, Bones. I'll keep watch."

Instead of listening, she sat next to him. "We'll keep watch together, Booth."

He didn't try to argue. Two sets of eyes were always better than one. "What was in the letter from Maluku?"

Brennan knew that Booth would eventually return to that topic. So she wasn't surprised by the question.

She crossed her legs and propped her arm on one knee to rest her head on. "Not much. I talked about the flight and how the driver couldn't find the dig site. We drove around in circles for an hour." She smiled, amused at the memory.

Then she shrugged, and started fiddling with something on the ground. "I told you how Daisy was driving me crazy because she talked all the time about Sweets. I admitted that her talking about Sweets all the time made me miss you."

Her voice paused and Booth noticed that the forest had come alive around them again. Whatever the threat had been was gone. For the moment.

She kept her head on her hand, but tilted it up toward him. "I told you to stay safe and come back to me."

A sigh escaped her lips. "And that was it. I put a stamp on it and put it in the mail bag. I don't know why it never got to you."

"I could think of a thousand reasons," he said. His voice was deep with emotion. Those four words - come back to me - would have been more than enough to make him wait. And that didn't even take into account the fact that she'd said she missed him. "You were on a deserted island, and I was on my way to a war zone."

"It wasn't deserted, Booth," she disagreed. "I waited for what I considered an appropriate period of time for a response and when it didn't come, I thought maybe I had erred in writing you a letter. So, I quit checking for one and went back to focusing on my work."

Except each night, when the rest of the team sat around the fire swapping tales and she excused herself to spend time alone in her tent. Maybe, if they got back to DC, she'd give him the entire box of letters she'd kept. She'd written one each day, chronicling her life on Maluku. But after failing to receive a reply to the first letter, she hadn't mailed a second.

In the distance, the sun was starting to come up. Brennan nodded her head in that direction. "We better get going."

Booth turned and looked toward the rising sun. "Yeah," he agreed. He rose to his feet and began to gather what little they had. "We need to get out of these woods."


	12. Chapter 12

It was Brennan who noticed it first. A change in how the trees were aligned. It wasn't a clear path, but the spacing wasn't natural either.

"There," she said, pointing in that direction. "It's a path."

Booth squinted his eyes, trying to see what she saw. "Are you sure?"

The look she gave him was one of annoyance. "Of course, I'm sure. If that cabin you think you saw actually exists, it's in that direction."

There hadn't been any sign of anyone following them, but Booth constantly felt as if someone was watching them. He'd been on edge since he'd woken during the early morning hours.

Brennan had picked up on the tension and was feeling edgy as well. "Do you think we should follow it?"

Booth considered their options. If there was a cabin at the other end of the trail, it could lead them to civilization. But it could also lead to what or who was tracking them through the woods.

"We'll have to be careful," Booth said. "But I think following that trail is our best chance of getting out of here."

He looked over at Bones. "Stay close. But you're going to have to help me. I still don't see what you see."

She nodded. "We're partners, Booth. Of course I'll help."

She moved to begin walking, but was forced to stop when Booth stepped in front of her. "Is that how you still see us? As just partners?"

"Do you really want to do this now, Booth?"

He looked behind him, at the path he still couldn't see, and back to her. It seemed like a metaphor for his life. He was always looking for the right path. "Yeah. Yeah, I actually think I do."

He wanted to know if his confession was for nothing. If despite his feelings for her, they still would never be more than friends.

"I told you I loved you."

"You've loved me for years, Bones, just as I've loved you, even if we wouldn't admit it. I want to be more than in love with you. I want to make love to you and build a life with you. I want you to want those things, too."

"I never used to want those things. I didn't think they were possible. I went to Maluku to escape what you wanted from me."

Trying to tamp down his frustration, Booth tried not to push, but he was tired and hungry and just wanted something to look forward to when he finally managed to get out of there. "And is that how you still feel, like you need to escape me?"

"Let me finish," she said with her own hint of frustration.

He remembered the similar words he had spoken to her and nodded. "Go ahead."

"I am in love with you Booth. And I have come to realize that I want the same things you want."

He took a step toward her, but she stepped back.

"I'm sorry I'm making this difficult for you, Booth, I'm trying. I'm not very good at this sort of thing. I don't know what you see in me." She looked at the ground, and then at him, waiting for him to explain it to her.

But he couldn't. "If you want me to explain love to you, Bones, I can't. Love just is. But the one thing I know for sure, Temperance Brennan, is that I'm hopelessly in love with you."

She smiled shyly. "I'm in love with you, too. And what I've figured out is that being in love with you means I want to be with you. For those forty or fifty years you talked about. Of course, given the average life span of the adult male in America, we might not have that long. So we better not waste anymore time."

"No, we better not. So let's hope there's a warm, cozy cabin at the end of this road and we can start figuring out the rest of being in love, if you get my meaning." Grabbing her hand, he started walking again only to stop.

"I get your meaning, Booth. Why are you stopping? I want to be partners in work and outside of work. Did I still not explain it very well?"

He chuckled. "I understand, Bones. We're a couple now. But that's not why I stopped."

"Then, why?"

"Maybe you better go first," he said sheepishly. "I'm still not quite sure where we're going."


	13. Chapter 13

Indicating the general direction they needed to go, they started walking again. Several times, she lost the trail and had to pause or backtrack in order to find it again.

"There," she said, pointing off into the distance. "There's something there."

Booth looked in the direction she was pointing. Between the trees, he could just make out the roof of a cabin. He couldn't help but smile. "At least, if we want, we can sleep with a roof over our heads tonight." And maybe do more than sleep.

Despite his relief, he approached the cabin slowly, making sure Bones was always behind him. They were easy targets for someone with a gun. But his instincts were telling him the threat wasn't coming from inside the cabin, but out.

When they were close enough to have a clear view of the front door, Booth held up his hand to stop Bones from moving any closer. "Let's just wait here and watch for a few minutes."

Finding an area that at least provided them some protection, Brennan and Booth sat to rest. The cabin was rustic at best. To Brennan's eye, it didn't appear to be much more than four walls and a roof.

Ten minutes turned into twenty and nothing approached the cabin other than a deer. "I'll go check it out. You stay here."

He pulled his gun, checking it automatically to make sure he was ready. There were so many places someone could hide between their position and the cabin. They were at a disadvantage for as long as they were out in the open.

"No. I'm going with you."

He gave her a look that would have made others turn and run. She just stood her ground.

Recognizing a losing battle, Booth nodded. "Fine. But stay behind me."

"You know if the shooter had a powerful enough gun, that won't protect me, right?"

"Shhhhhh," he hissed.

"I know, but I think it's ridiculous that you always want me -"

He rolled his eyes heavenward and turned back toward her. With his free hand, he grabbed the front of her shirt and pulled her toward him. When she was close enough, he bent his head and kissed her. Hard.

He just wanted to do something to keep her quiet. He didn't pause to consider the consequences of his actions.

But as soon as their lips touched, he knew he'd made a mistake.

Later, he would try to convince himself that he was lightheaded from the lack of food and not from the feel of her lips on his.

After all, this wasn't the first kiss they'd ever shared.

But it was the first they'd shared when they both appeared to finally want the same thing at the same time.

She opened her mouth in shock and Booth fought the urge to take the kiss deeper. They'd survived a plane crash and he was pretty sure someone was following them. This was no time to make out in the woods.

The thought gave him ideas for the future.

He held the kiss several seconds longer than he needed to before pulling back. Her blue eyes met his and the desire in them was clear. He swallowed heavily and turned back toward the cabin.

He was forced to clear his throat before speaking. "Stay behind me," he ordered for the second time.

Shocked to silence, she brushed her fingers over her lips, wondering if they would feel as warm to her fingertips as she thought they did. Wordlessly, she positioned herself behind Booth.

And ran her hand rather suggestively down his back.

"Bones," he hissed. "This might not have been the best place to start something like this."

No she agreed silently, it probably wasn't, but kissing Booth had brought a warm flush to her body. She rather liked the feeling.

"Let's hope that cabin is more furnished than it looks from the outside," she whispered.

Booth wouldn't say it, but a rug would be more than furnished enough for him at the moment. Hell, he'd take a blanket and the forest floor, except for the fact the woman behind him deserved better the first time he made love to her.

Together, they made their way slowly toward the door. Nothing moved in the woods around them and it wasn't long before they arrived at their goal.

"Are you going to kick it in?" Brennan asked.

Reaching out, Booth tried the knob. When it turned beneath his hand, he motioned for Bones to step to the side. Gun ready, he pushed the door open.

It creaked, but swung freely. Booth stepped in, and just as quickly stepped back out.

At Brennan's look, he grimaced. "I think we found our crime scene."


	14. Chapter 14

Brennan stepped around Booth before he could stop her. "Bones! Wait!" he cried. He wondered why he even bothered. She always followed her own path, regardless of the consequences.

"Blood," she said, stepping around a dried puddle in the middle of the floor.

Booth came in behind her, leaving the door open. It didn't take him long to scan the interior. A set of bunkbeds, a wood stove for heat and an area that could be loosely defined as a kitchen.

"And brain matter," she added. Handing her bag to Booth, she bent over to take a closer look. "I also see skull fragments."

Her eyes were concerned as she straightened up again. "While I don't like to jump to conclusions without further proof, I am inclined to think that this is our crime scene."

"So much for sleeping with a roof over our heads tonight. Or doing anything else for that matter," Booth said. He sighed, dropped the bag and holstered his gun.

"Why?" Brennan asked. "The center of the floor looks to be the only area impacted by the crime."

He raised his eyebrows at her. "Are you serious?"  
She looked back at him and her shoulders slumped in weariness. "No. But I find myself oddly disappointed that I won't get to sleep under the roof with you tonight."

Careful where he stepped, Booth came to her side and slung an arm over her shoulders. He pulled her against him, amazed at how well she fit there. "No one builds a cabin in the woods that they can't get to easily. We have to be close to getting out of here."

"Statistically, I don't think that's true, Booth. But for the moment, I'll try and believe it anyway."

He hugged her a little tighter before letting go. "I see some cabinets over in the corner. Maybe there's some food in them."

"We need to find plastic bags, too. Or something else I can use to collect evidence in."

She continually amazed him. "You're going to collect evidence?"

Following him toward the kitchen, if that's what you wanted to call it, she started opening doors. "You think someone's following us. If we don't get it now, we might never get another chance."

The only sounds in the cabin for several moments after that was the noise they made while searching.

When they'd finished, they'd found several cans of food and thankfully a can opener. Booth had discovered a box of garbage bags Brennan could use to collect her evidence in.

"I'll take the food outside," Booth said. He loaded up his arms with several of the cans. "You collect what you think you'll need. Remember, whatever you take, we'll have to carry."

Brennan looked wistfully at the roof above her head, but understood his reasons for wanting to sleep outside. "I won't be long," she promised.

He hesitated and watched her for several minutes before carrying the first of their bounty outside. It would be the first night they would eat well and his mouth was already watering in anticipation.

Booth was aware Brennan didn't believe him when he claimed they were close to civilization, but he was sure they were. Whoever was following them had managed to find them on foot; neither he nor Brennan had heard the sound of a vehicle during their travels the last several days. The end of this portion of the adventure was close.

Looking back toward the cabin, he watched Bones' figure move around through the windows. He'd known her for a long time now, but she was still a mystery in so many ways. Her mind fascinated him. Her body tempted him.

And the best part, she was apparently in love with him.

Shaking his head, he considered his options for the night. He wanted to be close enough to the cabin to see it, but far enough away that the forest would provide them some measure of protection. Finding the location of the murder would help their case, but they needed to get out of there alive for it to actually make a difference.

The sound of chopping brought his head up so fast his neck snapped. He rubbed a hand over it, trying to see what Bones was doing through the dirty window.

She was using the ax for something. Leaving the canned food on the ground, he turned and headed back toward the cabin.

His initial assumption was correct. She was using the dull ax they'd found on the plane to chop at the floor of the cabin.

"There's plenty of wood outside," he said.

She'd paused to take a breath. "I need a section of the floor for evidence. The blood is soaked into the wood."

Looking down, she considered what she'd accomplished so far. "I've already collected all of the skull fragments I can find and drawn a sketch of the scene on the inside cover of my novel. I want a piece of the floor, too."

Walking forward, Booth held out his hand. "Why don't you rest a second and let me do this."

Reluctantly, she handed over the ax. "I want this area, from here to here." She indicated it with her hands while she talked.

Thankful that she hadn't wanted them to carry the entire floor, Booth worked to remove the section she indicated. It was hard work and by the time he was done, he was sweating.

Using the hem of his t-shirt, he wiped at his face. "I can't wait to take a shower."

Brennan wrapped the section of floor in a garbage bag and placed it in her bag. Her eyes had taken on a distant look. The memory, or flashback, did not look pleasant and Booth wondered what the simple comment about a shower had dredged up.

"Penny for your thoughts," he said.

Her eyes focused again. "Why would you want to pay for what I'm thinking, Booth? If you ask, I'd probably tell you for free."

"It's just an expression, Bones. I was essentially asking what you were thinking."

"Oh. Why didn't you just ask then? I was thinking about the time in El Salvador when I didn't get to shower for a week."

Booth had moved past her to gather several more cans of food to take outside with them. "You don't talk a lot about the places you've been."

Her face serious, she waited until he looked at her again before speaking. "There are things about the places you've been that still haunt you, right?" Her voice had a tone to it he struggled to identify. Anger, fear, or something else entirely.

He'd paused, his hand resting on a can he'd been about to pick up. "Yes, Bones, there are things that haunt me."

She finished repacking her bag and stood. "Well, it's the same for me, Booth. There are some things I don't like to talk about."

"Did something happen in El Salvador?" he asked. He was suddenly very apprehensive of her answer.

"Bring the food, Booth," she said. There was no way she'd answer that question right now. "I find I don't want to sleep in an enclosed space after all."


	15. Chapter 15

They lay side by side, shoulders propped up on an old log behind them. Brennan was to Booth's left, leaving his shooting hand free. His gun rested within easy reach. Finding the murder scene made them a threat and he didn't want to be shot in the dark.

A small fire burned at their feet, hidden as well as it could be behind a pile of rocks. The cabin was outside the circle of light, but even though Booth couldn't see it clearly, he knew it was there.

He didn't necessarily believe in ghosts, but he wouldn't have been surprised if the image of a murdered man suddenly walked through the forest in front of them.

Brennan's hands rested on her stomach; it was the first time she'd been comfortably full since the plane crash. Despite their location, the full stomach made her sleepy.

"Are you going to tell me about El Salvador?" he asked suddenly. He had no right to ask her to share something she didn't want to talk about. Hell, there were things he'd done he'd never tell another living soul.

But her refusal to talk had sparked all sorts of dark images in his mind. He knew he wouldn't be able to escape them until he knew exactly what had happened to her down there.

She had suffered so much, both as a child, and an adult, they both had. It figured he'd fall in love with a woman who's history was just as mangled as his.

But maybe that's why he always felt like she was the only one who'd understood him. She knew things about him he'd never shared with another soul. Not Rebecca, not Tessa, and not even Hannah. Bones accepted he was a good man anyway. He appreciated that.

But she refused again. "No, Booth, I'm not going to tell you about EL Salvador. What happened there is in the past. The past can't hurt me."

He grabbed a small stick and tossed it toward the flames. "Will you tell me why you suddenly lost your desire to sleep inside after you mentioned it?"

The flames danced and blurred in her vision. It had been a mistake to mention El Salvador. With Booth, she always let her guard down. Unfortunately, this often led to her saying things without carefully considering the consequences.

She hadn't mentioned El Salvador to another living soul since Angela had demanded an explanation after Bones had assaulted the gang member. She'd buried it, with all the other things from her past that haunted her.

That hole had to be pretty deep.

Now, she was afraid to sleep, because sleep often meant nightmares. Nightmares that Booth would want explanations to. She'd never allowed anyone close enough to find out her secrets. But it appeared that becoming more than partners with Booth would lead to more and more of these conversations.

EL Salvador had been a place she wasn't sure she'd survive. She'd spent three days locked in a prison with no light and no company other than the men who threatened her each day. They'd never touched her, but the psychological torture had been more than enough to haunt her dreams.

There were times she'd had to leave her apartment after those dreams, just so she didn't feel trapped by four walls and a roof.

She could claim the past couldn't touch her, but there were times she felt it reach out and grab her, metaphorically, of course.

Booth watched emotions dance across her face. Some he could read, the discomfort and the annoyance that he continued to push the topic. He felt bad, but he couldn't stop himself.

He was pretty sure one of those emotions was terror. Not the kind of fear that made you hesitate before taking a step, but the kind that reached out and grabbed you in the dark, making your heart pound and your hands clench into fists.

"Listen, Bones," he said. He reached over and took her hand. "I don't want to push. But whatever happened can't be worse than what I've been imagining for the last two hours."

"There was a prison," she said, the words coming out in a rush. Another example of action without thought. Booth had told her things needed to change before he went to Afghanistan. She hadn't realized at the time she would be one of the things changing.

"And soldiers and darkness. No one touched me, but they threatened to kill me. Frequently and often. Each time the door opened, I figured I was going to die."

She pulled her hand away. "I don't like being closed in sometimes."

He reached over and grabbed her hand again. "Don't pull away from me, Bones. You know my past. You think I wouldn't understand that feeling?"

She tried to pull away again, but he wouldn't let go. Finally she gave up, but he could still feel that distance that she was trying to build between them. "Just leave me alone for a few minutes, Booth."

"That's the thing, Bones. You aren't alone anymore."


	16. Chapter 16

Booth woke her before the nightmares started. He stayed close until she'd finally escaped into a sleep that was surprising dreamless. It appeared her subconscious felt safe with him.

He put one finger over her lips to prevent her from speaking. "Fire," he whispered into her ear. "Stay down."

She nodded and looked over his shoulder. The cabin was fully involved, flames shooting into the sky. She brought her eyes back to his. Statistically, it was unlikely the fire had started on its own; they were not alone.

His gun was in hand and he settled next to her, taking cover behind a fallen tree. She assumed a similar position, reaching out to grab her bag and tuck it beneath her.

The cabin was engulfed, flames shooting out the door and windows. Anything they hadn't retrieved from the cabin earlier in the evening was nothing more than ash now. Brennan squeezed the bag even tighter to her. What she carried was their only link to who was chasing them.

Their fire was nothing more than coals and Brennan tried to kick more dirt on it with her feet. The heat from the burning cabin was more than enough to keep them warm for the moment. And the light of their little fire was a clear signal of their location in the trees.

The area around the fire was lit up like day, providing no protection for anyone trying to move away from the burning structure. Booth's eyes continually scanned the area, looking for whoever had decided arson was a good idea.

"It is improbable to think this was an accident," Brennan whispered.

Booth nodded, but didn't speak. Instead, he listened and hoped Bones would do the same. He wanted to hear a vehicle, a clue on what direction to go to get out of these woods.

The first shot came from behind and hit a tree over their heads. The slam of it hitting the trunk made Brennan jump. Booth rolled smoothly, and returned fire in the general direction the shot came from. Luck was the only way he was hitting anyone. And considering everything that happened the last several days, he figured luck was not on his side.

Brennan took the opportunity to dive behind a different downed tree. She kept as close to the ground as possible.

Booth followed her. "Keep your head down." He looked for movement, hoping there wasn't a second shooter sneaking up behind them.

He saw the flash before he heard the shot and ducked down next to Bones. It hit something well to their right. Their mystery man had no idea where they were hiding and was hoping to get in a lucky shot, just as Booth had done.

Booth caught a glimpse of someone moving away from them as he fired, perhaps circling around to come at them from a different direction.

"We need to move," Booth said. He pointed to their left and Brennan crawled in that direction, careful to stay close to the ground. She dragged the bag of evidence behind her, refusing to leave it behind. With the cabin on fire it was all that they had.

The farther they moved from the flames, the easier it was to hide. Finding a collection of downed trees, Brennan crawled in among them, Booth not far behind. Together, they huddled in the darkness, senses alert.

For a long time, the only sound was the crackling of fire as it destroyed the cabin. The roof fell in with a crash, causing the fire to flare. Brennan sighed, suddenly thankful for both El Salvador and Booth's squeamishness about sleeping where a murder had taking place. Thanks to both, they were still alive.

Between those noises, Booth was sure he heard the sound of an ATV or similar vehicle. He held his breath trying to pinpoint the sound, but it remained elusive.

Using it as proof their assailant was gone, he was able to take a deep breath for the first time in minutes. So far, he managed to keep his promise to keep them safe, but he was afraid of what the next night would bring.

Booth wasn't a murderer; he wouldn't kill another human being unless he was sure of his target.

But if Bones was hurt at any point, he would be seriously reconsidering his position on the matter.

Their hideaway was far enough away from the fire that they could no longer feel the heat. It wasn't long before Brennan was shivering from the cold.

Seated so close together, Booth felt her shaking next to him. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

"You okay?" he whispered.

He felt her nod. "Cold," she said. "And tired."

"Yeah," he agreed. "Me, too. But I saw what way our gunman ran and we're going that way in the morning. I bet we'll be out of here by midday at the latest."

"What woke you?" she asked. She didn't have the same strength of faith Booth did. She needed proof and facts. And right now, she didn't have either. So she'd believe they were out of the woods when she actually saw signs of civilization again.

That same sixth sense that had woken him the night before, but he didn't have the energy to explain it to her now. "I smelled the smoke," he lied.

She yawned. "I know you said it wasn't logical, but could we go to a hotel before going back to DC?"

He kissed her gently on the head. "I'll take you wherever you want," he promised.


	17. Chapter 17

They waited until first light before emerging from the makeshift shelter. Neither had slept and exhaustion was weighing heavily on both of them.

Booth rubbed both hands across his face, realizing that he not only needed to shower, he also needed to shave. He wondered what Bones thought of his new look.

"I want you to promise me something, Booth," she said as she crawled out behind him.

"What's that?" he asked.

"When we get to that hotel, you'll turn your phone off. I want to sleep for a week."

He chuckled. "I promise."

Side by side, they made their way to what remained of the cabin. Smoke still drifted from what little was left. The smell of burnt wood was heavy in the air.

Whoever had started the fire had done a good job of destroying evidence. Other than a few charred timbers, nothing remained.

"I hope I got enough out of there," Brennan said. She had been able to take so little. A floorboard, skull fragments, and a crudely drawn sketch of the area. She wasn't sure she'd done enough and that was an unusual feeling for her.

Booth shrugged. "I'm hoping that whoever it was shooting at us thinks we didn't get anything at all. With the cabin gone, he might think we are no longer a threat."

"Obviously, they would be mistaken," Brennan said, clearly miffed at someone thinking such a thing. Her moment of doubt had passed. "I certainly don't need what was in that cabin to determine what happened."

He couldn't disagree with that. He'd seen what she could do when the squints had little more to go on than a finger.

"Everyone seems to think I'm the dangerous one in this partnership, Bones. If only they knew the truth."

Her brows furrowed. "And what is the truth as you see it, Booth? Because truth is a subjective term."

"From where I'm standing, Bones, you are the one the murders and criminals should fear. There is no perfect crime as long as you're around."

Brennan stood for a moment, realizing that was one of the nicest things Booth had said to her in months. She only took a moment to enjoy the feeling before bringing her attention back to their current situation. Making sure her bag was securely on her shoulder, she asked, "Which way?"

Booth pointed. "There. I heard something as our mystery man ran away. I'm pretty sure it came from that direction."

She looked at him, and despite her exhaustion, she found a teasing smile. "If I try to go first, will you kiss me again?"

He was surprised she'd brought it up. Nothing had been mentioned since it happened, and he figured she was trying to make sense of it. Rather than make the same mistake he'd made that night at the Hoover, he'd planned on giving her as much time as she needed.

"Do you want me to kiss you again?"

"I found your kiss, while out of right field considering our circumstances, quite satisfying."

"Left field, Bones. It's out of left field."

She shrugged. "Does it matter?" she asked, starting to walk in the direction he indicated.

Rather than let her walk first, he fell back into step next to her. "Then when we get out of here, I think we should spend some more time on that."

She nodded. "I think I'd like that."

They walked in comfortable silence for a few minutes, each considering where more kisses might lead. What would either of them had thought if they knew they were both thinking the same things?

Brennan hadn't given the kiss much consideration. Booth would probably be surprised by that, she thought. She'd tucked the memory away to examine later; her evening spent on other things that were more important at the time.

But during the night, when they were hidden in the trees, she discovered she didn't need to analyze it. Instead, she'd allowed herself to enjoy the memory and the thought of it happening again.

He had waited a long time for her to come around. She had watched, devastated, when he tried to move on with another woman. His kiss, unexpected as it was, had clarified the last questions she had.

They were finally in the same place, physically as well as emotionally. Why mess that up by overanalyzing?

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. His face was covered with more hair than she'd ever seen on him, and she found the rugged look appealing. She was sure she didn't look as sexy.

Booth knew she was watching him and he fought the urge to turn and look at her. Instead, he focused on putting one foot in front of the other. One of them had to be paying attention to what was in front of them.

The cabin was still in view behind them when Booth let out a yell and picked up the pace. Brennan had been so lost in thought, she hadn't been paying attention. For a moment, she thought they were being shot at again.

Her confusion only deepened when Booth turned to her. A broad grin on his face, he grabbed her and spun her in a circle.

"Booth!" she cried at his exuberance. "What is wrong with you?"

Setting her down, he kissed her firmly on the lips. Putting both hands on her shoulders, he turned her in the direction he'd been facing, so she could see what he saw.

"A road," he said.


	18. Chapter 18

_A/N: Happy Thanksgiving to all of my readers who celebrate! Thank you to all of you who've taken the time to read and comment._

The road wasn't well used, based on the condition, but that meant little to the two of them. The walking was easier, and finally Brennan started to believe they might actually find their way back to civilization.

She kicked at a pebble or two as she walked, contemplating how to use this little adventure in her next book. Maybe Agent Andy would be injured in the plane crash. That would up the tension a little bit.

Maybe she'd leave Agent Andy in woods for a time. Her editor always told her she should leave a question, so the reader would want to buy the next book. The fate of Agent Andy would fit that description.

In real-life, the tension had been more than enough. Too much, if she was honest. While their lives were never boring, she hoped the upcoming week or two would be slightly less stressful than the last three days had been.

Booth wondered what Bones was thinking as she walked. He considered asking her, but was hesitant to break the silence.

These past few days had finally brought peace. Bones had forgiven him, and more importantly, he'd forgiven himself for what had happened the past year. He felt the difference that forgiveness brought with each passing second. And while he knew he shouldn't be thankful for a plane crash, he couldn't help but be a little appreciative of the change it had brought between them.

He studied the road as they walked. There were tracks on it, fresh in Booth's opinion. He figured this was the way the ATV had escaped the previous evening. He remained alert as they made their way down the road. He would feel so much better when they weren't so exposed.

It wasn't long before the sound of a vehicle approaching was heard by both of them. Booth tried to get Bones to follow him into the woods, but she refused. Logically, she argued, it probably wasn't the same person since they were clearly making no effort to hide their approach.

Her argument seemed to make sense, which made him wonder how tired he actually was.

Together, they found a spot next to the road and sat to wait. Booth made sure his gun was as hidden as it could be and he had his badge in hand. The last thing he needed was to be accidentally shot by some overenthusiastic hunter who'd never been in real danger his entire life.

"A hamburger and pie," Booth said as they waited. "I don't think I've ever wanted those things so badly."

"Not even when you were in the military?"

He shook his head. "I don't think so. How about you?"

"Salad," she admitted.

He just looked at her. "We've been in the woods for three days with very little to eat and that's the first thing you think of?"

She shrugged. "Anything would work at the moment."

Brennan tipped her head back and looked at the sky above them. "I thought we might hear some planes by now. People out looking for us."

"No one expected us back right away. It might have raised some alarm bells when they didn't hear from us, but given the nature of the area, they might have thought that was due to lack of cell phone service."

"Which it would have been," Brennan added. "Our phones were already out of range before we got into that plane."

"And given the look of that airfield we found," Booth continued, "I don't think the pilot had too many people worrying about him."

"But this is our third full day of being in the woods. I guarantee you, people are looking now." Booth sighed, running his hand over the back of his neck. Lord, he prayed, I hope people are looking for us by now.

The vehicle finally crested the last hill and Booth breathed a sigh of relief when he realized that it was some sort of environmental officer. Slowly, he stood, badge in hand, to make sure they and it were clearly seen by the driver.

The truck slowed to a stop next to them. The man inside rolled down the window and Booth watched his eyes travel from one of them to the other.

He knew how they must look. Three days in the woods with little food and water, fighting for your life in more ways than one, tended to take its tole on a person.

He was dirty, needed to shave and that was just him. Brennan sat behind him, just as dirty, clutching her bag of evidence tightly to her chest.

But they were alive and still in one piece. Booth would not apologize for how they looked, or smelled. He'd kept the promise he made to himself; he'd gotten them out alive.

Holding up his badge, Booth began to speak, but the officer stopped him with a hand.

"You wouldn't happen to be Seeley Booth and Temperance Brennan, would you?"

Shoving the badge back into his pocket, Booth turned and looked back at Bones. She made eye contact and gave him a little shrug.

"Yeah," he said, when he turned back around. "How did you know?"

The officer reached next to him and grabbed a piece of paper off the seat. Silently, he handed it through the window to Booth.

It was an FBI bulletin with their descriptions and pictures. It was dated that morning. Skimming it quickly, Booth realized they'd found his vehicle, just like he figured they would.

He held the paper so Bones could see it.

"That picture looks nothing like me," she said, taking it from his hand.

Booth chuckled at her show of feminine outrage. He looked back at the officer, a thousand questions on his lips.

"There's a lot of people looking for you," the officer said before he could ask a single one.


	19. Chapter 19

Booth stifled a groan. "How many is a lot?" It wasn't that he didn't want people out looking for him. It was just that he wanted some private time alone with Bones before he had to deal with all of those people.

Officer Morgan, or Elliot as he insisted Booth call him, considered the question.

"FBI, local police, and some guy named Jack Hodgins who tried to hire every local pilot within the state. We managed to convince him to hold off for one more day.

Brennan snorted behind him. "You should have let him."

Elliot shook his head. "With that many pilots in the air, we would have had more problems."

"How far from the road are we?" Booth asked, taking a long drink from the bottle of water their rescuer had handed him when he first arrived.

"From a back road, about five miles following the trail you found. If you'd made it there, someone would have found you eventually."

Who that someone would have been was the question.

Brennan managed to get to her feet and came up next to Booth. "I'm getting in the truck." She walked past the two men and climbed into the rear of the cab. Booth heard her sigh as she sat on the first comfortable surface in days."So how did you end up back here looking for us?' Booth asked. Despite his exhaustion, he could already feel himself reverting to investigator mode.

Elliot pointed over Booth's shoulder. "I knew there was a cabin back there. Given your SUV was at the airfield and Benny and his plane were gone, I put two and two together. I was checking all the cabins in the area, figuring if you were hurt, you might have holed up in one of them."

Elliot looked around. "Where is Benny, by the way?"

"Back with the plane," Booth said. His voice was flat. It wasn't the first time he'd informed someone of a death, but it still sucked.

Elliot pressed his lips together. "That's too bad," he said, reading Booth's meaning.

Booth hesitated, but his gut was telling him Elliot could probably be trusted. If he was their unknown assailant, he probably would have tried to shoot them by now.

"That cabin you refer to is gone. Burned down last night."

Elliot raised his eyebrows. "You burn it down? Signal fire get out of control?"

It sounded like something Hodgins would have said and Booth fought off a smile. That fight was a lot easier when he realized they wouldn't have been out in the woods looking for a cabin to begin with if it wasn't for the scientist.

Shaking his head, Booth thought back to the previous night. It felt like years ago. "Someone burned it down and tried to kill us."

A low whistle came from Elliot. "You two have really been through the wringer. Why don't we get you back to civilization and you can tell me the whole story."

Brennan was taping a box closed as Booth came out of Elliot's office. He'd been in there for hours with Elliot and several other officers from other agencies. She was pretty sure the FBI had been in on the meeting as well.

It had given her the opportunity to package up the evidence she'd managed to retrieve and prepare it for shipment to the Jeffersonian.

Brennan didn't want it in her possession any longer than possible. Someone had burned the cabin down and tried to kill them. The sooner she could get it back to her lab, the safer it and they would be.

"Are you ready to go to a hotel?" Booth asked.

Handing the box to a waiting secretary, Brennan nodded. "The evidence will be at the Jeffersonian tomorrow. Probably about the time I get back."

"What happened to sleeping for a week?" he teased.

"While it seemed like a good idea at the time, I don't believe it is physically possible for a human being to actually sleep for a week, " she clarified.

"I don't know. Right now, it totally feels possible."

She shook her head, but didn't argue further. "Where's the SUV?"

Opening a door, Booth led her down a hall on their left. "Elliot sent an officer to retrieve it while we were here. It's out in the parking lot. He also gave me directions to a place we can stay just up the road."

They walked in silence, both sighing simultaneously when their SUV appeared in front of them.

Another sound escaped when Booth opened the door to the vehicle. "And it appears he left some food in it for us."

Brennan grabbed a container of dried fruit from a bag and dug into it greedily. She wondered what people thought of two dirty people, standing next to a government vehicle in a parking lot, eating like they hadn't seen food in a week.

Booth crumpled a wrapper and threw it back into the bag. Reaching into his pocket, he found the wrapper to the protein bar Bones had forced on him that first morning, throwing that into the bag as well.

"Come on, Bones, " he said. "I want a shower."

The receptionist did not look surprised at their condition and Booth figured Elliot had probably called ahead. He seemed like a decent guy, someone Booth could see himself having a beer with after work.

Except for the fact he was never coming back to this area ever again. Not without a satellite phone or bread crumbs so he could find his way home.

"How many rooms would you like?" she asked, waving her hand when Booth offered the credit card.

"One," he said.

"Two," Brennan said sharply over him.

The receptionist kept the polite smile on her face, trying to decide which person to listen to.

Booth held up one finger to ask her to wait a moment, and dragged Bones out of earshot.

"One room," he said.

"Booth, we are not sharing a shower or a room."

He crossed his arms over his chest, considering what tactic to take to get what he wanted. "Listen, Bones, whoever tried to kill us is still out there. We can get a room with two beds, but I will sleep much better knowing you are close."

Despite her abruptness, Bones tended to put other's needs ahead of her own, especially when it came to him. He felt no guilt using the ploy against her now. He added his charm smile just in case.

She tilted her head to side, trying to make the right decision. Angela would tell her to just get one room. Of course, she'd also advise Brennan to take advantage of that one room by sharing the bed with Booth.

"One room, but two beds," she finally agreed.

She might be brilliant, but he still knew how her mind worked. "Deal," he said.


	20. Chapter 20

Booth tossed a bag on each bed as he entered the room. Brennan immediately grabbed hers and headed into the bathroom.

Years ago, Booth had explained the necessity of an emergency bag. Something with just enough in it to get her through a night away from home. She packed one, only because he suggested it. It had never come in handy until today.

"Is there a reason you didn't want to stay with me?" Booth asked. "I thought we were, well," he stumbled, running a hand through his hair.

Brennan narrowed her eyes. "You're tired. I'm tired. I thought we'd sleep better if we weren't in the same room."

Carrying a supply of clean clothes, Brennan brushed past him into the bathroom, leaving Booth to wonder if she thought they wouldn't sleep well because they were enjoying other things.

Like each other.

Of course, she was so literal, she could have meant that was all they would be doing. Sleeping.

Booth listened to the water start, wondering how long she'd be in the shower. He hoped the hot water didn't run out. He stared at that closed bathroom door a long time before going to his own bag to dig out clean clothes.

By the time he was finishing up, the water in the shower turned off.

She came out quickly, her hair wrapped in a towel. She smiled at him, relieved and tired at the same time.

"Your turn," she said with no trace of discomfort, despite them sharing a room.

He nodded, glad that she wasn't uncomfortable because suddenly he surely was. She was beautiful, no makeup on her face, dressed in sweats and, wait a second -

"Is that my FBI t-shirt?"

She looked down at herself. "I stole it," she explained. There was no apology in her voice.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "How many of my shirts have you taken?"

Brushing past him, she smiled. "How many have you lost?"

Thinking back, he remembered the Flyers t-shirt that disappeared, and the red T-shirt with the Jeffersonian emblem. There had been quite a few that he couldn't find lately.

"I want the Flyers one back," he said.

She looked at him. "Who are the Flyers?"

He threw up his hands. "Seriously! You stole the shirt and you don't even know who they are?"

Yawning, she laughed. "Is that the orange one?"

"See," he said, pointing at her. "You do have it. You stole my Flyers t-shirt."

"It's very comfortable."

"You probably jinxed them. That's why they haven't played so well lately."

"I don't understand," Brennan said. "Are you telling me your team doesn't play well because I stole the t-shirt. I would think it has something to do with the players lacking the correct physical attributes to play the game successfully."

"This is why we can't talk sports." He was still grumbling under his breath as he closed the door to the shower.

Brennan stared at the closed door. She'd stolen that t-shirt after a case one night. It had just been sitting on the corner of the couch, waiting for her to grab it.

She liked to wear his stuff. It kept him close, even when he wasn't.

When had she gotten so sentimental?

She glanced at the door before shaking her hair out and moving toward the bed. She'd used his shower before and they'd both walked in on each other at awkward moments. Yet, she'd never been as tempted as she was right then to open the door and join him.

Deciding whether to follow through on her impulse, she lay down on the bed for just a few minutes to consider the pros and cons of such a move.

He came out ten minutes later to find her sound asleep on the bed. He grabbed a spare blanket, smiling gently as he covered her with it.

Giving in to the impulse, he ran his fingers through her hair, still damp from the shower. She stirred but didn't wake.

While she slept, he rifled through her bag, looking for any other t-shirts she might have taken. There was a black one that definitely his, but instead of taking it, he smiled and put it back. He liked the thought of her wearing his things.

Grabbing the remote, he turned the tv to sports and relaxed on the bed.

A sudden cry had him reaching for his gun. He'd fallen asleep at some point. The room was dark, except for the glow of the tv, now playing infomercials instead of a game.

A sweeping assessment of the area indicated there was no threat. Heart pounding, he set the gun back on the nightstand and turned to Bones.

She was restless, kicking at the covers. Recognizing a nightmare, he left his bed and crawled into hers.

Settling himself behind her, he reached forward to pull her against him. With one arm wrapped tightly around her middle, he held her close.

"You're okay," he whispered. "Go back to sleep."

She came awake long enough to realize he was behind her. "You shouldn't be over here," she said.

He kissed he hair. "I don't expect anything, and even if I did, I'm too tired to even try. Just go back to sleep."

Nodding, she relaxed in front of him, asleep before he could count to twenty.

It wasn't a position he'd ever thought he'd be in, holding her at all, say nothing about in a bed. He wished he wasn't so tired, so he could actually enjoy it.

He closed his eyes, trying to focus on the case and not her warm back pressed against his chest. He tried to figure out what he'd do in the morning, when she realized just where she was, but he didn't have any guesses. Just when he thought he had her figured out, something purely Bones would come out of her mouth and he'd have to start all over again.

Spooned together, he let his mind drift until he also fell asleep. Neither of them were chased by dreams that night.


	21. Chapter 21

The ringing phone startled them both awake. Brennan opened her eyes just in time to watch it fall to the floor.

She tried to roll over, only to discover the warm, and definitely male, body behind her. She took a deep breath to calm her suddenly racing heart.

"That better be you, Booth," she said.

Booth groaned and rolled away from her. "Who else would it be?"

"Your phone is ringing."

He flung an arm over his eyes. "I heard it. What time is it?"

Propping up on one elbow, Brennan grabbed his phone from the floor. "Ten o'clock."

Trying to hand him the phone, Booth waved if off. "Who's calling?"

"Officer Morgan."

She tossed it back on the nightstand with a thud. Rolling over, she propped herself up on the other arm to look at him.

If he felt her gaze, he didn't acknowledge it and Brennan took the opportunity to study him. If anyone could have seen her, they would have told her she looked at him as if he were one of her skeletons, as she tried to see the secrets that bones couldn't hide from her.

Shyly, she took one hand and traced it down his arm. He still didn't uncover his eyes, but his breath quickened.

"Booth," she said. She waited until brown eyes met hers before continuing. "Maybe we could stay in bed a little while longer?" It was clearly a question, and a suggestion.

He rolled above her, her squeal of surprise doing all sorts of interesting things to his body.

Placing his hands on either side of her head, he held his weight off her.

"I don't have…" he hesitated. He looked up and away not believing he was actually going to say something that was about to stop this in its tracks.

She smiled, amused at his stuttering over such a simple topic. "We don't have to worry about that. It won't happen."

Her voice was so sure, he was confused. "I'm pretty sure that could happen, given what we are about to do."

She sighed. "After Hannah left, I hoped we might have a chance again. So, just in case we decided to take that step, I made sure I was ready."

Why wasn't he surprised?

He looked into her eyes for any trace of hesitation or doubt. What he saw made his breath catch.

"Are you sure, Bones?" Using one hand, he brushed his fingers across her cheek. He wondered if the rest of her was as soft.

He reached under t-shirt she wore to run his knuckles over her stomach. Her breathing picked up pace as his hand drifted slowly higher.

Yes, she was definitely soft there, too.

"You should stop asking me that, Booth. I'm always sure when I say something." Her reply was breathless as she waited to see where his hand went next.

"Yeah, you usually are," he said as his head descended toward hers.

Brennan's last coherent thought, before Booth went flying with her for the second time that week, was that Angela would be so proud of her.

It took three phone calls from Officer Morgan before Booth finally answered.

"You guys have been sleeping a long time," he greeted.

Booth looked over at Brennan, where she lay covered by a sheet. Let the man think what he wanted. "We were tired," Booth said. "What's up?"

Brennan stood, letting the sheet drop, going to her bag for fresh clothes.

Booth sucked in air so fast he almost choked. He knew Brennan wasn't modest, but walking around naked was something he prefer she not do when he was on the phone.

In desperation, he finally turned his back to her. But just knowing she was behind him was distracting until Elliot said his next words.

Brennan half listened to Booth's conversation as she dressed. She needed to get back to the lab to look over the evidence and catch a killer.

She also needed to get back to her apartment to hide all of his stolen t-shirts before he found them.

When he hung up the phone, he swore viciously, and Brennan looked at him in surprise.

"It wasn't an accident," Booth said as explanation. He also grabbed clothes from his bag and started getting dressed. When he grabbed the black t-shirt from Brennan's bag, she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Of course it wasn't an accident, Booth." She ignored the theft of his t-shirt from her bag but knew she was right about hiding the others. "Our victim was clearly murdered by a shot to the head. We recovered evidence and I sent it back to the Jeffersonian."

"Not the murder, the plane crash."

Brennan sat down heavily. "The crash wasn't an accident? How do you know?"

"That was Elliot. They found the plane and the body. Initial investigation indicates something was done to kill the engines. We weren't staying in the air no matter what that pilot did."

Booth shook his head. "I'm guessing our saboteur hiked into the woods to check if the crash killed us. When it didn't, he tried to take care of things by burning the cabin and shooting at us."

"That's a lot of assumptions to make."

He shrugged. "They're right, so they aren't assumptions."

She bristled, but had learned from him over the years there wasn't much sense in arguing with his assumptions. "Fine. I'll wait until I examine the evidence."

Grabbing her bag from the bed, Brennan shoved the rest of her stuff in it. "Let's get back to the Jeffersonian. I have a lot of work to do."

He came up behind her as she packed, grabbing her around the waist. "Just in case I don't get to do this later," he said, turning her in his arms so he could kiss her.

Booth finally pulled back, before the kiss turned into something they didn't have time for at the moment.

Her eyes were bright with desire when she spoke.

"I'll come over to your place tonight, after I leave the lab," she offered.

"You don't want me to come to yours?"

She thought of his missing t-shirts. "Nope."


	22. Chapter 22

"Oh, sweetie," Angela cried as soon as Brennan walked into the lab. "Hodgins and I were so worried about you."

"I'm fine, Angela," Brennan reassured her. Brennan managed to side step the hug, a move that came from years of experience.

"You and Booth were in the woods for three days with no food and water."

Brennan sighed. Her best friend was so dramatic. "We had water and a little bit of food. We were in no danger of starving to death."

Moving toward the platform, Brennan continued over her shoulder. "Besides, being shot at was more dangerous."

"What?" Angela screeched, running up the stairs behind her. "Who shot at you?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out. Did the box of evidence arrive?"

"Here," Cam said, appeared on the platform with the requested box. "I hear you have quite a story to tell Dr. Brennan."

The gloves went on Brennan's hands with a snap. "Yes, it is quite a story. I'm thinking of using parts of it in my next book."

Cutting the tape on the box, Brennan removed the little bit she'd managed to retrieve from the cabin before it burned to the ground.

"We have to be careful," she said as she set the items out to be examined. "There is no more where this came from."

Cam ran her fingers along the edge of the board. "What did you remove this with?"

"A rather dull ax I retrieved from the plane after it crashed. Booth did the actual chopping."

"Mmmmm, a man with an ax. He was probably growing a beard by then," Angela commented, clearly getting into her fantasy.

Brennan tried to make sense of what she was saying. "He did have a beard, but I don't know what that had to do with the ax."

Cam chuckled. "What's in the book?" she asked before Angela could get started again.

Flipping the cover open, Brennan turned it so Cam could see it better. "I drew an outline of what the scene looked like. I didn't have a tape, so all the measurements are just estimates based on what was in the room."

"Knowing you, Dr. Brennan, I'm sure these are fairly accurate."

Angela reached forward for the book. "I'll take this and input it into the computer. See what it comes up with."

Nodding, she watched her as Angela walked away. Brennan took a moment to wonder how long she could keep her little secret from Angela.

Cam watched her, wondering at the look that came into her eyes before Brennan shook her head and refocused on what was in front of her. "Inside the smaller bag is all of the skull fragments I could find. I'll think we'll discover they are the missing pieces to the skull."

"And I'll take this board and see what kind of DNA I can get off of it."

Noticing Brennan appeared to be staring off in the distance again, Cam looked at her curiously. "Are you okay, Dr. Brennan?"

She blinked and looked at the woman. "Of course, I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

Disbelief was clear on Cam's face; even Brennan could read that one. "You survived a plane crash, a shooting, and an arson all in the space of three days. I know you don't usually react to much, but that's a lot even for you."

Taking the gloves from her hands, Brennan started to head for her office. "Make sure you let me know what you find. This person tried to kill me twice. I'd like for Booth to arrest him before he gets another chance."

Brennan's relief at escaping to her office was short lived once she found Angela waiting for her on the couch. "Did you input the measurements in the computer already?"

Angela waved her hand. "That won't take long at all. I want to hear about your adventure with Booth."

"It wasn't a vacation, Angela. We almost died, several times."

"I know, sweetie, but you didn't." Angela was sympathetic to what they'd been through, but she had bigger fish to fry. "I was just wondering if it helped things between you and Booth."

Unable to hide the blush that suddenly rushed to her face, Brennan tipped her head forward.

But Angela reached out and tipped her head back up. "Oh. My. God. You slept with him."

So much for her plan to keep her little secret from Angela.

"You can't tell Booth I told you."

Angela laughed. "I'd shout it from the rooftops if you'd let me. It's about time."

"Please, Angela," Brennan begged. "At least let us tell the FBI first so they don't break up the partnership."

Patting her hand, Angela tried to contain her enthusiasm for the pair. "Fine, fine," she reassured her quickly. "But I want details."

Brennan pressed her lips together. "Sex with Booth is very satisfactory. I found that I quite enjoyed myself and I'm looking forward to doing it again."

"Doing what again?" Booth asked as he came into the office. He stopped short, knowing immediately from the looks on both women's faces exactly what they had been talking about.

Angela stood and gave the agent a hug as she left the office. "I'm glad you're safe and together."

Booth tried to keep a serious look on his face and failed miserably. "I knew you'd tell her."

"Who did you tell?" Brennan asked, refusing to believe she'd been the only one to slip.

"Sweets, the bosses, and anyone else who might need to sign off on this."

"You told Sweets?" Brennan sighed. "We have to go back to partners therapy, don't we."

Flipping his sobriety chip into the air, Booth laughed at the look on her face. "The only thing that matters is we're good to go. Partners. I'll deal with Sweets later."

"Now," he said, sitting down next to her. "Let me tell you what I found out about the case."


	23. Chapter 23

"The cabin was owned by James Anderson."

"Robert Anderson was the victim," Brennan supplied."Robert Anderson and James Anderson happen to be uncle and nephew."

"Hunters?" Brennan asked.

Booth nodded. "Both of them."

"Angela is working on a scenario for the shooting in the cabin," Brennan offered.

Booth continued with his explanation. He didn't need a fancy computer to figure this one out. "And guess what good old Jimmy did in his spare time?"

"You know I don't guess, Booth."

"Of course not. But if you did guess, you would say that he helped his good friend Benny out at the airfield."

Glancing up at the clock, Brennan looked over at Booth. "We've barely been back to work. How do you know this already?"

"The entire alphabet soup of agencies have been working on this since yesterday."

"So what do you think?" she asked, still refusing to guess at what happened.

"I think Jimmy killed Uncle Robert in that cabin. Dragged him outside to some vehicle, which is how he got covered in leaves. Brought him to the city and dropped him off."

"What you suggest does fit the evidence we have so far."

Booth nodded. "Of course it does, Bones."

"And motive?"

"I'm still working on that. Probably money. Jimmy apparently doesn't have a job, just spends a lot of time in that cabin. We're looking at the family now."

"Enough of that," he said, getting back to his feet. "Let's talk about tonight."

Also standing, Brennan went to the door of her office to close it. The glass windows meant they couldn't hide, but at least no one could hear them.

"I told you I'd be at your place when I was done here, Booth," she said. If a relationship meant he was going to try and dictate her hours, they were already in trouble.

"I know that, Bones," he said. He wouldn't say so, but he knew exactly what she was thinking. Giving up her independence would be a big step and he had to be careful not to push too hard.

"I wondered if you wanted me to make dinner?"

"Dinner?"

"Yeah, Bones, you know, that meal people eat at the end of the day."

"I know what dinner is, Booth. Did you know that dinner can also be used to refer to lunch?"

"No, but I'm not surprised you do. So what do you say? I'll make dinner and we can relax at my place."

"I have a stop I have to make first. Maybe two."

He raised an eyebrow in question, but when she offered no more information, he didn't ask.

He figured she would need to go back her place. He knew he shouldn't hope that she would stay the night, but that was exactly what he was thinking. "That's fine, Bones."

"Booth," she said when he had opened the door to her office.

He half turned. "Yeah."

She sighed, suddenly at a loss for what she wanted to say. "I'll see you tonight," she finally settled on.

As if he could read a thousand messages from those four words, he gave her a warm, welcoming smile. "I'm looking forward to it."

"Me, too," she said after the door had closed behind him.

Was this what love was? Missing someone despite the fact he had just left her office. Daydreaming about another morning wasted in bed?

Should she stay the night? Or was she considering that type of thing too early in the relationship? Brennan valued her independence too much to give it up that easily. Would it make that clear to Booth if she went home tonight?

Relationships and all the pitfalls that came with them were exhausting.

Coming to the conclusion that she wouldn't have any answers in the next five minutes, she turned to her desk and her computer.

She would stop at her apartment that night, but there was something else she wanted to do first. But not having any knowledge of where to look, she needed to do a little research.

She was pleased to finally locate what she wanted when Cam walked into her office.

"I heard the news."

Brennan sighed. "Angela wasn't supposed to say anything."

Cam looked confused. "I heard they've got a lead on who might have killed our victim. What did you think I was talking about Dr. Brennan?"

Shutting off the screen to hide what she was doing, Brennan turned to her. "Yes, Booth has a lead on who the murderer might be. Do you have something for me?"

Cam sighed, knowing that Dr. Brennan wouldn't share whatever it was she'd been referring to. "Initial tests indicate that the blood in the floor is most likely our victim's. I'll run further comparisons to be sure, but I think you found the crime scene."

Leaning back in her chair, Brennan nodded. "I also came to the same conclusion. Too bad there is nothing left of it to go back to."

Cam took a seat across from Brennan. "Nothing?"

Brennan shook her head. "Nothing but ashes. I seriously doubt we'd find much, despite how good we are."

"If Booth can find the guy and get a confession the loss of evidence won't matter."

Brennan's eyes shifted focus from the woman in front of her to the door Booth had exited from just a few moments ago. "Evidence always matters."


	24. Chapter 24

The message was one sentence. Short, sweet, and totally Bones. Booth was opening it just as Sweets came into his office.

Sweets was coming from several meetings with higher ups at the FBI. Despite earlier reassurances, there had still been some difficult questions about the changing nature of Booth's partnership.

Not that people hadn't seen this coming for years. Sweets had been warning them for some time now, especially after Hannah had left.

But those people in power liked their arrest and conviction rate. So as long as Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan continued their earlier success, anyone who was uncomfortable with their partnership would overlook it.

"Damn," he muttered, slamming his hand on the keyboard. Why was nothing ever easy?

Sweets closed the door behind him. "Something wrong, Agent Booth?"

Booth gave the man a dark look. "Nothing," he snapped, clicking several times to close the email. "Nothing is wrong."

Sitting across from the man, Sweets adjusted his tie. "We both know that isn't true."

Great, Sweets thought. The ink is still drying on the agreement to continue their partnership and there's already a problem.

Rubbing both hands across his face, Booth considered his options. Sweets provided him the best chance for some insights, but that could always prove to be awkward considering the man's position in the FBI.

"Friend or FBI employee?"

Sweets had been tripped up by this one before. But he was pretty sure, this time, what Booth was upset about had nothing to do with the job.

"Friend, Agent Booth. I think that's what you need from me right now."

"Yeah," Booth agreed. "Brennan sent me an email."

"I take it you didn't like what it said?"

Grabbing a baseball from his desk, Booth leaned back in his chair and began to throw it toward the ceiling. Catch. Throw. Catch. Throw.

Sweets observed the motion for several minutes. Most men would become uncomfortable with the silence and try to fill it. Agent Booth wasn't most men.

"I have to figure out how to handle it."

Sweets knew he was about to take a leap that could result in severe bodily injury. He chose to do it anyway.

"Is Dr. Brennan having second thoughts about what took place while you were away?"

Booth grabbed the baseball out of the air and held it. Sweets waited anxiously to see if the next throw would be toward his head.

Instead, Booth started throwing it into the air again. "She's just a little nervous."

"Are you okay with that?"

"I love her, Sweets. I know you know that. I'll be okay with whatever she's feeling."

Another pause in throwing while Booth considered his next words. "But I hope I don't have to chase her around the world if she tries to run again."

"May I ask you exactly what the message said?"

Booth didn't even need to look. "I'm going back to my own place tonight," he recited from memory.

Sweets nodded, looking down at his tie. "Dr. Brennan is very literal, Agent Booth. Perhaps you need to be in this case as well."

"Literal? What the hell are you talking about?"

Mentally, Sweets kicked himself for not insisting these two rejoin him for therapy as a condition of the approval for their continued partnership. It appeared they still had some communication issues to deal with.

"I mean, that perhaps she is simply indicating that after she comes to your place, for whatever you have planned, she is going to go home."

Booth considered it. "We have a dinner planned. I'm cooking."

"Exactly. She didn't say she wasn't coming to dinner. And as Dr. Brennan is so literal, if that's what she was canceling, she would have said that. She is simply indicating that she is not spending the night."

While disappointed, simply getting her to his place meant he might be able to change her mind on staying. "Thanks, Sweets."

The younger man got to his feet. "It is my pleasure to assist you, Agent Booth. Should you have any further-"

"Nope," Booth interrupted. "No further questions. I'm good for today."

Sweets smiled. He always enjoyed working with Agent Booth and felt their work relationship, while forced on them at first, had developed into something closer to friendship over the past several years.

"May I give you a piece of advice, Agent Booth?"

Knowing there was no way he was getting out of hearing what Sweets had to say, Booth nodded.

"I believe a colleague of mine once counseled you that hope and patience were what you needed."

Reflecting back on that night in the restaurant kitchen, when another person had finally agreed that he was in love with Bones, brought a small smile to his lips. "Your point?"

"I'm giving the same advice now. Except more on the patience side. You have to be patient, Agent Booth." Sweets took a deep breath. "On a personal note, I'm happy for both of you."

Booth held out his hand. "Thanks, Sweets."

Sweets took the offered hand. Working with this complex man was often a challenge, but it was one he always looked forward to.


	25. Chapter 25

Angela reappeared in Brennan's office to find the her friend filling out reports.

"I have a scenario for you," she said, pulling up an image on the screen in Brennan's office.

"Based on the drawing you gave me, I reconstructed the interior of the cabin." Several clicks and a computer version appeared.

Brennan nodded. "That's fairly accurate," she agreed.

"Based on the location and the shape of the blood pool on the floor, I figure our victim was standing about here." More clicks and the image of a man appeared on the screen.

"The shot came from the direction of the door," Brennan said.

"I think so," Angela agreed. A scenario began to play out on screen. "But the skull fragments indicate the bullet continued on its trajectory."

"Meaning it's still in the cabin. Or it was until someone burned it to the ground."

"It might still be there, if you want to go back."

Brennan shook her head. "No. Send Hodgins. He likes field trips. I will not be returning to the area anytime soon."

Angela smirked. "He definitely likes field trips." Turning toward her friend, Angela smiled at her. "So tell me more about you and Booth."

"Should I stay the night with Booth tonight?" Brennan asked.

Only years of friendship with Brennan allowed Angela to keep up. "Do you not want to spend the night? Cause sweetie, I'm not sure I'd want to leave his side at this point in the relationship."

"I'm not sure what staying the night indicates."

"It indicates you want to spend time with him."

"I sent him an email telling him I wasn't going to stay the night. I'm thinking I might have acted in haste. I find myself wanting to spend even more time with him than I already do."

"It's only one night, Brennan. Staying doesn't mean you want to marry him, not that I'm saying you shouldn't."

"Booth knows how I feel about marriage."

And I know how many times you said the two of you were just partners, thought Angela.

"If you want to stay, then stay. If you want to go, then go. Don't worry about what it says or doesn't say. But staying one night doesn't mean you're giving up your independence or some other thing I'm sure you already thought of."

Brennan chewed on her lip. She wondered if it was too late to e-mail Booth and tell him she'd changed her mind.

Angela read her intentions. "Don't email him."

"Why?"  
Angela's grin was just a bit smug. "Let him persuade you to stay."

"You're saying Booth will use romantic methods to get me to stay the night with him?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

"I find your plan, while sneaky, agreeable. Send Hodgins out to the site. See if he can find the bullet."

Typical Brennan. She could switch topics in seconds. No wonder half the lab couldn't keep up with her. "Sure, sweetie. I'll call you if he finds anything."

"I got it!" Hodgins explained on the video feed. "Found the slug over in the far corner covered in debris."

Hodgins was covered in soot, but he face expressed nothing but pure enjoyment of the job he was performing.

"Bring it back, Hodgins," Brennan said. "We'll notify Booth. If we find a gun, we might be able to compare it."

"I don't know," Hodgins said doubtfully. "The fire really did a number on it."

Brennan narrowed her eyes. "I don't understand."

Hodgins smiled. "I meant the fire damaged it." He held it up so she could see it clearer.

"Bring it back. We might find something."

"Of course, Dr. B.," he promised. His face disappeared as he turned off the screen.

At that moment, Cam walked in. Brennan took several minutes to inform her of what they'd found.

"I have something for you, too," Cam said. "I just got off the phone with the NTSB. Your suspect was at the airfield the day you took the plane out. Now I know you don't like conjecture, but I imagine he overheard you talking about what you were looking for. The plane crash was a convenient way to take care of the two of you before you got too close."

"You're right, I don't like conjecture. But in this case, I think your scenario fits the situation."

Brennan considered what she learned for several moments. There was little they could do with the information until Booth located the suspect.

"Can you call Booth?" Brennan asked. "I have to make a couple stops before I go to his place. I'm afraid he'll distract me if I try to call him."

Cam smiled. "Of course, Dr. Brennan. Do you have big plans tonight?"

"Yes, I do," Brennan answered as she brushed past the woman with her purse.

Cam kept the smile on her face. The next time, she thought, she'd ask a more specific question.


	26. Chapter 26

_A/N: I made a huge mistake and skipped a chapter when uploading. It should have been Chapter 23. I have reordered everything and inserted it as Chapter 23 making the Sweets chapter 24. You can go back and reread 23 if you'd like to see it. If not, continue on._

 _Remember everyone, there's still a bad guy out there…and he's tried to kill our dynamic duo twice…_

"I might be a little late, Bones," Booth said in a message. He was disappointed he couldn't actually speak to her. "We've got a line on our suspect and I'm going with the team to arrest him."

He nodded to another officer that he was on his way. "Just wait for me at the apartment," he said. "I'll go there when I get back."

Ending the call, he grabbed his gear from the waiting agent. "Where is he?"

One of his investigators had located Mr. Anderson about a half hour before. The agents sent to retrieve him for questioning had been met with gunfire and a neighborhood full of innocent victims. It seemed nothing about this case was going to be easy.

Of course, since he'd sprayed the neighborhood with bullets, it should be pretty easy to find one to compare to the bullet Hodgins found.

The agent, whose name Booth didn't know, followed him. "Holed up in a house about twenty minutes from here. He's refusing to come out."

As he raced to the scene, his thoughts turned to Bones. He hoped she would wait for him at his place. But if he arrived and she wasn't there, he planned to grab takeout and head to her place. Maybe he could persuade her to turn that tv on and watch a game with him. He got a lot of pleasure out of trying to explain the rules of sports to his brilliant partner.

All thoughts but what was in front of him disappeared as he pulled up on the scene. The entire block had been evacuated. It didn't take long to throw on his tactical gear and approach the officer in charge.

"Hey, Agent Booth," he greeted. Booth had worked with him before and saw him as a competent agent.

"Agent Fernandez. What do you think?"

He shrugged. "Typical stand-off. The negotiator is on his way." Fernandez looked down at his watch. "I hope this will be over by dinner. I have plans."

An image of a naked Bones popped into Booth's head. "Me, too," he agreed.

The house was average for the neighborhood. Two stories, with a paved driveway and roses growing next to the steps, it could have been any house in any neighborhood.

"Does this place actually belong to him?" Booth asked.

Fernandez shook his head. "It's his mother's, but apparently he's been living here since his uncle cut off the free hand outs."

Perfect motive for murder, Booth thought, an additional piece falling into place.

Fernandez looked at Booth. "Heard this guy tried to kill you and your pretty partner."

"Yeah. He tried twice. Plane crash and a couple of shots that totally missed their mark." Booth ignored the comment about Bones' looks. Hard to argue with the truth.

Fernandez's eyes widened. He opened his mouth to ask a questions when a sudden noise had everyone turning.

"He's coming out!" someone yelled.

Fernandez and Booth watched the front of the house. A taller man, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt opened the door. Walking forward, he stopped on the top step with his hands up.

He didn't get a good look at him when they were in the forest, but the body shape was right. He carried himself like the man Booth saw running from them at the burning cabin that night.

Booth and Fernandez both raised their weapons and began slow movement toward the house. Several other agents followed from varying directions.

Booth wondered at the sudden change of heart. This was a guy who'd attempted to kill him not once, but twice. Surrender seemed out of character for him. Maybe multiple armed officers stationed outside his front door had clarified the situation.

It was the look on the suspect's face that started alarm bells in Booth's head. He looked surprisingly smug for a man about to be arrested.

"Fernandez, wait," Booth tried to say.

But it was too late for them and everyone else around them. At the last second Booth turned, bending toward the ground, hoping Fernandez followed his lead.

He wasn't sure if he heard the blast or felt the shockwave first. All he knew for sure is that for several seconds, no part of him was actually in contact with the ground.

Until suddenly he was. The impact knocked the breath from his body as the rush of heat flashed past him. Something in his side cracked and a deep breath was suddenly a lot more difficult to take.

He opened his eyes long enough to see Fernandez also laying near him, his open eyes blank. He had only a heartbeat to regret the loss before pain seared through his chest.

Booth's last thought, before just letting his mind drift, was of fear. Not for himself, he was pretty sure he wasn't that badly hurt, but for what Bones might do. Because, if this guy hadn't managed to kill himself as well, Bones would use every piece of scientific knowledge she had to commit murder.

And get away with it.


	27. Chapter 27

She knew something was wrong without being told. Her phone didn't ring, there was no message.

But she knew.

Later, she would convince herself that it was the lateness of the hour and the lack of contact from a man she trusted wouldn't leave her waiting. She would ignore the fact that a simple explanation like that could not explain what she was feeling.

Brennan had let herself into the apartment, using the spare key he still kept under the fake rock that fooled no one. She carried a box wrapped in silver paper in her hand and a bag so she could stay the night.

The bag she hid in the closet in Booth's room. She enjoyed the idea of Booth finding ways to persuade her to stay.

And then she waited, watching first the minutes and then the hours tick away on the clock. She'd received his messageand feared that something had gone terribly wrong, and tried to forget the statistics she knew that would apply to this situation.

Booth was always the hero. While she loved him for it, there were times she wished he was a little less alpha-male.

She had her phone in hand to call whoever she could think of when it rang. A number she didn't recognize came up on the screen.

"Hello?"

She listened with growing concern to the voice on the other end.

"Is he alive?" she heard herself ask. Was that really her voice?

But the nurse on the other end of the line would tell her nothing, leading Brennan to believe he was probably deceased. That was standard protocol; get the family to the hospital and tell them in person that their loved one was dead.

As usual, someone loved her, and left her.

Despite her fears, she grabbed the gaily wrapped box from the table. She really hoped she'd have the chance to give it to him.

"I'm fine," Booth snapped at the third nurse that tried to touch him. "I've had cracked ribs before." He kept his voice low. Taking a deep breath hurt too much.

A doctor came in and smiled in sympathy at the nurse who quickly excused herself. "Agent Booth, we need to wrap those ribs. You also have some burns on both arms we'd like to look at."

Booth glared at the doctor. No one was touching him. "Did someone call Bones?"

The doctor flipped through the chart. "Is that a last name? Are they family?"

"No. Dr. Temperance Brennan. Bones. I told the nurse to call her." Yes, she was family. His family

"Yes, Agent Booth, she was called. Now if we could just look at those ribs."

"Booth," a familiar voice said. "Let him look at your ribs."

Leaning to the side, Booth peered around the doctor. Her voice had been shaky and her eyes were red from crying. But at that moment, her look had him slumping his shoulders. "I was going to."

She came into the room setting the package next to him on the bed. She hadn't waited to talk to a nurse, had simply gone from room to room until she'd heard the voice she was looking for, refusing to believe she wouldn't hear it again.

He was definitely alive. Maybe not well, but definitely alive. And the worry that had threatened to consume her coalesced into another worry she could shove aside for the moment.

Something must have given her away, because Booth reached forward to grab her hand. "Are you okay, Bones?"

She looked at his arms, red from burns, and the pain in his face from the cracked ribs and found a smile for him. She must have done it wrong, because he looked even more concerned. "I'm fine," she lied.

He narrowed his eyes at her, making it clear he didn't believe her, but he would let that slide for now. Later, when they were alone, he'd make her tell it all.

"Let her see the x-rays," Booth demanded, not letting go of her hand. He could feel it shaking beneath his, and he briefly wondered which of them was suffering more.

The doctor looked back and forth between the two of them. "I don't think-"

"Trust me, doc, she knows more about bones than you ever will. Give her the x-rays."

Reluctantly, the doctor handed over the films. Brennan pulled her hand away, removed them from the envelope and held them up to the light.

She ignored the remodeled injuries from his youth, despite the number of them. Several were more recent, from his time in the military. The damaged ribs were easy to pick out.

"You cracked your ribs from landing on the ground after an explosion." She put the film back in the envelope. "You're going to be sore for some time. But you already knew this. I'm sure your doctor is quite competent."

She looked over at his arms, finding strength in her science. "Your arms have first degree burns. They'll also be sore for a couple of days."

Booth nodded, pleased to hear her voice regain its steadiness. He knew what the x-rays showed. Hell, he'd cracked ribs numerous times. But forcing her to look at the films had steadied her in a way he couldn't right then.

"Did you dumb that down for me?" he asked with a grin.

She was helpless not to smile back. "Let the doctor wrap you up. I'll wait for you outside."

She grabbed the gift before Booth really noticed it was there.

"Wait-" he cried, groaning from the ribs. "Is that for me?"

She turned. "Be a good boy and I'll give it to you."


	28. Chapter 28

She was on her phone when he made his way very slowly into the waiting area. The ribs had been taped and he had pain meds he had yet to take. He wanted a clear head for the conversation that he knew was coming.

Brennan turned, but offered no assistance as he came toward her. The wrapped box waited on a chair and Booth wondered what she had purchased him. He loved gifts and it was out of her nature to surprise him like that.

"You know," Brennan said as she gathered her things, "there are better ways to get me to spend the night." She'd have to ask Angela to be sure, but Brennan was convinced that this method had never occurred to her.

Booth tried desperately to hold back a laugh, which hurt almost as much as the laugh would have. "Trust me, Bones. I had come up with better ways to get you to stay the night."

Tucking the box under her arm, Brennan slowed her pace to match his. "I called Angela and Hodgins to let them know you had survived. They were willing to inform the others."

Her voice was cool and distant. She was still hiding behind her facts and her big words. Booth reached out and stopped her progress. "What's wrong, Bones?"

He was surprised when tears appeared in her eyes. With angry motions, she wiped them away. "I don't want to talk about this now, Booth."

"But we're going to talk about it, Bones."

She pressed her lips together, but didn't argue. "Let's just get back to your place."

They didn't speak again until Booth was comfortably settled on his bed. He'd wanted to sit on the couch, but Brennan has insisted that moving from the couch to the bed would just cause him unnecessary pain. Better to just get situated in one spot for the night.

Control over something suddenly seemed very important to her, so Booth didn't argue. However, when she tried to step away, Booth grabbed her hand and refused to let go.

"Tell me what's going on," he said quietly.

"I was terrified," she blurted suddenly. "I can't do this."

"Sure you can. You told me difficult things when we were in the woods. This is just as private." He knew that wasn't what she was referring to.

"There is no me without you anymore and it scares me too much. I can't do it."

Booth sighed, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. He'd known without asking what was going on in her mind. And a part of him was relieved she actually admitted it, rather than just running.

But the words still hurt.

"Love isn't always easy, Bones."

"Everyone always thinks I can compartmentalize your death." She could hear the slightly hysterical tone her voice had taken and took a deep breath to calm herself.

She pulled her hand away from his and went to the window. Outside, traffic moved slowly past the apartment. "They are all wrong," she snapped.

No one, not even Angela, knew of the nights she'd hidden in Booth's apartment, crying. Several t-shirts had disappeared that week. She'd been afraid at the time that they would be the only thing she had left of him.

"I wanted-" Booth began.

She cut him off. "Do you know that when the nurse calls they won't tell you what's occurring over the phone? I had to get to the hospital before I knew if you were alive."

He'd tried to force the nurses to allow him to call her, but no one would give him a damn phone.

Turning, she glared at him. "All of this is your fault."

He nodded. "Of course, it is."

His lack of an argument had her pausing and reevaluating. "You are agreeing this is your fault?"  
He nodded again. "I obviously made you fall in love with me. I faked my death the first time, which made you face feelings you are terrified of. I almost died today, doing a job that is dangerous, which made you face those same feelings again. So obviously this whole thing is my fault."

She put her hands on her hips. "Is this some sort of backwards psychology thing? Because I hate psychology."

"It's reverse psychology, Bones." Despite his injuries, he forced himself to his feet and came toward her. "And maybe a little."

"Get back in bed, Booth," she ordered, her worry for him always coming first.

He stopped in front of her and pulled her very slowly and carefully into his arms. Gently, he ran one hand up and down her back. "I love you, Temperance. You got scared today and that's okay. But you don't get to run because it's scary or you're afraid for me. Not anymore."

She pulled away from him, wanting to get away, but not wanting to hurt him either. Shaking her head, she backed away from him. "You're wrong."

He watched her back out of the room, but didn't attempt to stop her. With his cracked ribs, she'd outrun him anyway. He listened for a long time for the front door to open, but the sound never came.

Surprised and a little relieved she hadn't actually left the apartment, he managed to give her five minutes alone before he went to find her.

She was on his couch, the wrapped box in her lap. Thankful she didn't appear to be crying, Booth stood and watched her.

"I know you're there," she said when he came no closer. "I don't know why you keep chasing me."

He ignored the comment. "Why didn't you leave?"  
She shrugged. "It occurred to me that running a year ago didn't solve anything. I am too intelligent to make the same mistake twice."

Why did she keep trying to make him laugh?

"No one said you weren't intelligent."

She looked toward him. "You didn't tell me why you keep chasing me."

"Because I love you," he answered.

"Yeah, I figured that was part of it." She toyed with the ribbon on the package. Finally, she sighed. "I love you, too."

Booth tore his eyes from that damn package and looked back to her. "And?"

"And I would rather love you and be with you than love you but walk away. The walking away part hurt, too." She got to her feet and came to him. Gently, she poked him in the arm. "But you can't die on me."

"I promise," he said. And even though they both knew it was a promise impossible to keep, they let it go.

"Bones, I'm really tired here. Could you maybe just come to bed with me? And bring the box."

She grabbed the package and followed him back into the bedroom.

He sat on the bed with a groan and held out his hand.

Suddenly shy, she handed it to him slowly. Brennan watched his face closely as he opened the package.

Inside, he found several t-shirts nestled in tissue paper. He knew immediately what they were.

"How many are in here?" he asked.

She shrugged. "The top one is a replacement for the Flyers one that appeared to be so important to you. You aren't getting that one back. The rest are some of the ones I've stolen."

Don't laugh, don't laugh, don't laugh.

He thumbed through the pile. Yep, there was the one from the Jeffersonian. And a grey military shirt he hadn't even realized was missing.

In all, there had to be more than ten t-shirts in the box.

"This is only some of them?" He was a trained FBI investigator. How had he missed this? "How long have you been doing this?"

Her answer would reveal a lot, she knew. "Since the first time I came to your apartment."

He smiled and pulled the orange one off the top. "Put this one on."

"But these are yours," she argued.

Booth held out his hand with the shirt in it. "Trust me, Bones. You wearing this is definitely for me."

She looked at him suspiciously. "You know that what you're thinking about doing is going to be difficult with your ribs."

He raised an eyebrow. "You're always telling me how flexible and creative you are. I think it's time you proved it."

Brennan flashed back to the miserable week they'd had. A plane crash, survival in the woods, arson, and an explosion had certainly changed things.

Life, while never easy for the two of them, would always be interesting.

"I accept your challenge," she said, taking the t-shirt from his outstretched fingertips. While his eyes darkened with desire, she stripped in front of him and pulled on the t-shirt. Straddling him, she was very careful to avoid his ribs as she leaned over for a kiss.

Yes, it would alway be interesting.

 _A/N: The end! Thanks for reading and all of the wonderful comments. I appreciate all of the people who take time out of their busy days to read my little creations._


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